Toby was the undoubtedly the apple of both his parent's eyes, but they had very different ways of expressing it. The young teenager's mother Lucy was a sweet, homely woman who loved to dote on and spoiler her only child wherever she could, whilst his father Scott believed the best gift he could give his beloved boy was a rigid, disciplined upbringing. If it weren't for her husband, Lucy would be the kind of mother who'd spoiler her kids rotten. Needless to say, Toby had a favorite parent.

His father's favorite medium for discipline was physical sport; rules, regulations, fitness, consequences and social structures were exactly what a growing boy needed. And they needed a lot of it. Toby had shown a slight talent for swimming at a younger age and his father had decided that he was destined to be a swimmer. This meant a rigorous schedule of swim training almost every day of the week, coupled school soccer as well as swim related exercises and an extremely measure diet. His father would have him weighed and inspected in his swimmers fortnightly to make sure he was keeping to his specified calorie intake. This kept Toby very lean for a boy his age, but it made him very unhappy.

Scott and Lucy were very dissimilar people, but they both grew up in a time and a place where men were hard, women were soft and that's how things were. Lucy had snuck Toby the occasional treat to quell his hunger, much to his father's disapproval, but mostly she stayed out of it entirely. Scott said that spoiling a boy at his age would turn him into a lazy brat forever. Lucy tried to tell herself that every time she saw her boy's face after getting dressed down by his father during the his fortnightly inspections. She told herself it was for the greater good.

Or at least she did up until one fateful night. She had tried to block out her husband's raised voice during the weigh-in session, but it only got louder and louder. Eventually Scott stormed into the boy's bedroom and his yelling hit fever pitch. When Lucy had made her way upstairs to the room Scott was bellowing at their son with an empty Doritos packet waving furiously in his hand.“Look what our son has been hiding from us!” he screeched, the boy in tears on the floor.

Later, when Scott had gone to the bar to blow some steam off after shouting down his boy, mother and son sat in the kitchen. Toby was still in his swimmers, crying. His mother did her best to console him but could manage to find a way to do that without saying his father was in the wrong.“I don't really care about swimming,” Toby blubbered, “I just want to eat chips and candy like my friends! I just want to be normal!”Lucy's heart broke. How could she look at her boy, skinny in his swimmers to the point of being gaunt, crying his eyes out. A mother's natural instinct was to nurture and nourish her young.“Look,” she hesitated, “maybe… your father isn't always right…”But Toby was too busy crying to hear her.“Aw Toby! Please don't cry!” she was starting to get distressed now, “What if… what if I happened to have a pack Reese's Pieces left over from Halloween?”Toby stopped crying for a moment, “Mom?” “I know you're not meant to have snacks on your swimming diet,” Lucy said slyly as she fished the packet out from its hiding place under the sink, “but what your father doesn't know won't kill him.”Lucy knew straight away when she saw her son's eyes light up that she had done the right thing. Toby wolfed the entire pack down like a hungry dog, thanking his mom over and over and over. Truth is she didn't do it for the thanks, just to see her boy smile was enough.

Scott yelled at his son during the next weigh in, and he screamed at him in the one after. Toby was still terrified of his father but he couldn't say “no” to his mother's sneaky treats. It was a milkshake here and a cupcake with cream there but the microscopic changes in the reading on the scale were enough to set his father off. He also had been putting in less and less effort into his swim training and getting bad times. It was mostly due to the comment his mother had made about his father not always being right. Suddenly trying his hardest at a sport he didn't enjoy at all didn't seem very important.

“I don't enjoy it at all!” Toby told his mother through a mouthful of chips. The two had told Scott they were driving to a recycling plant as part of an assessment Toby was doing for Geography. They ended up at a McDonalds instead with Lucy deciding it would just be easier if she did the assessment for him.“I know you don't like swim training,” his mother reasoned, “But it means a lot to your father.“But I hate it!” Toby slammed his fist, tears welling up in his eyes, “It makes me feel bad about myself! Like… like I'm not good at anything!”“Aw there there baby,” she closed in for the hug, unable to resist the display of waterworks, “if you don't want to go to swim training anymore then Momma won't make you.”“What about Dad?” the boy whimpered.“Momma will take care of it.”

And so it began that Lucy would drive her son to and from the indoor pool every other day of the week instead of her husband Scott. Or that was the story anyway. In fact, she would drive Toby to and from the Mall every other day and he would get himself a fudge sundae and a box of original recipe wings. Lucy loved spending time with her boy, and was addicted to seeing the smile on his face. This behavior of course did not go unnoticed. By the next weigh in Toby had developed a little bit of pudge. Two weigh ins later he had a bonafide muffin top hanging over his swimmers. His father did the usual song and dance routine – screaming at him, poking his flab and telling him he'd amount to nothing – but by this point Toy had started sassing his father back. Toby made a snide remark about how maybe his father was just a moron seeing as he was one in control of his son's strict diet. Lots of little comments like this had started coming out of Toby's mouth and rather than get even angrier his father tended to back off in shock. Toby was getting less and less afraid of him and he knew it.

“Um, do you mind me asking why you want to wear that outfit?” Lucy treaded cautiously as she looked over her shirtless son on the other side of the dining room table.“I didn't want to get food stains on my shirt.” he said dismissively, not looking up from the table of snacks and desserts in front of him.“No, I gathered that…” she responded, quickly taking in how her once sickly thin boy was starting to fill out nicely, “I mean, why are you only wearing your old swimming trunks?”The key word here was 'old', Lucy could see that the swimming trunks were getting a size or two too small for her son. His softer hips and thighs were being pulled inward where the band of the swimmers passed across his hips, and at front they almost became invisible where her son's pudge hung over them.“Oh, I don't know… They're pretty comfy and it's what I wear when Dad weighs me anyway.”Before long he was chowing down on what could only be described as the snack table from a 9 year old's birthday. Except instead of 20 hyperactive children is was one greedy boy who was slovenly pouring plate after plate into his mouth. His appetite had be increasing by leaps and bounds. The occasion? Well, there shouldn't need to be an occasion to prepare your son's favorite meal Lucy thought. He was a good boy and he deserved a treat, especially with how rough his father had been with him recently.

Towards the end of the feast, when young Toby was getting tired. There was a gravy-boat filled with chocolate sauce leftover but his hands were dirty, so his mother offered to do the honors. Toby sat his dirty hands on his stomach slowly caressing himself whilst his mother tipped the gravy boat slowly into his mouth. He seemed to moan and struggle a little but the two of them had being doing this long enough for Lucy to know that her son didn't want her to stop. In fact she would have kept going if she weren't interrupted by a booming voice at the front door.“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING TO OUR SON!?”Scott stood in the doorway for a minute, pale as anything with shock but his whole body clenched in sheer rage. For some reason he was back a good hour earlier from gym than usual. Lucy forgot herself for a moment and split chocolate sauce all down her son before dropping the gravy boat entirely. After a moment Scott stormed over.“So it was you all along?!” Scott pointed threateningly as he marched, “You're the one who's been ruining our boy?!”“I.. I…” Lucy was shaking, and entering the fetal position.“What's the big deal Dad?” Toby smirked, before gathering up a whole heap of chocolate syrup that had spilled onto his chest and messily poured it into his mouth“DON'T YOU START WITH ME BOY!” Toby's father grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him out of his seat. He forcefully grabbed his son's belly fat and shook it in the direction of his wife.“Ow!” Toby winced.His father ignored him. “Is this what you want Lucy?!!” he was seething with rage now. “You want to have a big fat son who thinks its okay to be lazy and disrespectful?! YOU'RE SICK!!”Lucy was crying now, too hard for any of her words to come out.Toby pushed his father away. “Hey! Leave her alone!”His father lowered his voice but spoke through his teeth with a white-hot rage. “Go… to… your… room.”Toby obliged his father, he had never seen him so angry. Even with his door closed ad his music turned up he could still here his parents screaming late into the night.

The next morning Lucy did her best not to cry as she explained to her son where they were driving.“…and so it's probably best if you stay with your aunt Sarah for a while.”Toby had a somewhat numbed expression as he nibbled on his Snickers bar, “How long do I have to stay at Auntie Sarah's for? When can I come home.”“Well,” Lucy tried not to let tears well up in her eyes, “it just depends how long it takes me an your father to work out some things. Try not to think about it like that sweetie. Your father and I love you very much and you'll be back home in no times. I just know it!”They pulled up outside Aunt Sarah's place and waited for a minute. Sarah must've seen them through the blinds because she came bounding out after a moment. Toby hadn't seen Sarah in a while since she and his father didn't get along very well. She looked very similar to his mother, although she was quite plump and the way she dressed and did her hair was almost a little 1950's. As she jogged over she bounced around in her sundress, and she must've been baking because she was wearing an apron.“It's so good to see you Toby!!” she announced almost a little too enthusiastically before drawing him in for a very constricting hug. When she finally let her nephew go she turned to her sister and her face dropped a little. “Oh Lucy…” she said in a defeated voice.Lucy touched the little bruise on her cheek defensively, “Oh god it's nothing Sarah. Really, don't worry it's not that bad…”Sarah looked as though she was going to say something else but instead she swallowed it and gave her sister a brave little smile. “Anyway!” she turned to Toby and the joy returned, “We're going to have a lot of fun you and I!”His mother turned to him as well with another big smile, “I've told Auntie Sarah that she has to do whatever she can to make your stay enjoyable!” Auntie Sarah had never found a long term partner and had never had kids of her own. It didn't bother her much, but she compensated by spoiling her nieces and nephews rotten. It was something like a 'good cop bad cop' routine; Mom and Dad would say “no” but Auntie usually said “yes”.“Anyway,” Sarah grabbed her nephew by the hand, “your Mom has to get going now. Why don't you and I head inside and you can help me get the choc chip cookies finished and into the oven? I'll even let you lick the bowl!”Lucy waved goodbye as the two headed back inside, and even managed to hold back tears until she was in the car again.

The next couple of weeks were tense for Lucy and Scott. At first Lucy had tried to steer their conversations towards reconciliation, but it soon became apparent that the ship was heading towards separation. Scott was disgusted to his core and couldn't understand that Lucy's motivations were only love. When the 'D' word was finally uttered they both realized it was inevitable. What the shouting matches then became focused on was who would receive custody. Lucy told Scott she could keep their boy in line, get him back to doing sport and regulating his diet a little. Scott scoffed at this.

“How long until I get to come home?” Toby's voice crackled over the phone.“Soon, soon…” his Mother half heartedly replied, “Why? Aren't you enjoying staying at your Auntie's place?”“Oh I am Mom!” Toby beamed through the line, “She let's me do whatever I want! She's the best cook!”“Oh that's lovely honey! I'm glad she's treating you well.”“Yeah but…” he paused, “It's not the same! I'm starting to miss home.”“I know sweetie, I know. Your father an I love you very much and we're working as hard as we can to get you home.”“Thank you Mom…” Toby said quietly.There was a pause, “Sweetie, would you mind putting your Auntie on for a minute?”“Yeah sure,” he called out for Sarah, “Okay here she is. Love you Mom!”“I love you too!”The phone changed hands.“Hi Sarah, how's it going? Toby hasn't been too much trouble has he?”“Well…” Sarah sounded a little out of breath, “I'll tell you what, that boy can eat! Did he not get fed at home or something? Cos I'm barely getting a break from cooking for him!”“Oh really?” Lucy was almost embarrassed, “Well I don't want to put you out or anything! I could send you guys some snack or transfer you money for takeaway or something if you…”Sarah laughed, “No don't worry about it! I was just a little, uh, surprised is all. Also I thought I should let you know in case you wanted me to limit the amount of junk food he has. It can't be a good habit for a boy that age.”“Oh no! That's okay! He's been through a lot recently and I think he deserves a bit of a treat. If junk food takes his mind off what happened with me and Scott, then let him have all the junk food he wants.”“Well okay!” Sarah almost dropped it but decided to make one more point, “I was just letting you know because, well, he's eating a lot of food. And I really do mean *a lot*. He's put on a bit of weight since he's been here, I don't want you to get a shock when you see him.”Lucy smiled, “Oh don't worry Sarah! Let's deal with the situation at hand and let Toby have his fun. When things are settled then we'll get his eating habits back on track!”

I was watching the movie with my little brother when I got the idea of Hiro and a VERY large aunt Cass trying to keep their relationship secret, with eventually the other gals beginning to blimp up too!

My mother and I were sitting in the kitchen late on a Thursday. I had tapped out but Mom was finishing the tub of ice cream by her lonesome, slowly and leisurely. “You know, your father would kill us if he new there was junk food in the house Trent.” she said cheekily between mouthfuls. She wasn't wrong either but I didn't say anything. I was still in a place between being full and being mesmerized by the fact that Cath, my super slim, usually total Nazi of a mother was actually finishing a tub of ice cream. The bottom of a tub and half a pack of chocolate biscuits later she was reclining, breathing heavily and groaning lightly with content. “Oh my,” she sighed, gently stroking her skinny underwear-clad body, “I've missed all these flavors!”. Two thoughts were swimming around my brain now, the first being “when is this going to end?” and the second being “how on earth did this begin?”.

Two weeks ago everything had been normal; Mom was a total bitch and I didn't speak a word to her beyond a couple of grunts after school. Our family had always been super health-conscious and very sports oriented thanks to strict parents with sporting backgrounds. For a skinny, uncoordinated, awkward guy like me it was hell; lots of football practice that only served to humiliate me. I wasn't an only child, my sister was freaky tall and freaky fit, and made everyone else in her year insanely jealous. She inherited mom's bitchiness so we didn't get along. As a result of this, I spent most of my time in my room on the internet and video games.

My only key to staying sane was a stash of junk food I kept under the bed. I wasn't greedy, but the bland “healthy” meals that Mom gave us were killing me. I was beginning to hate everything to do with fitness, exercise and health; I would rather be one of those kids who has chips for lunch than a some muscle-clad douche bag. Having said that, I knew it was only a matter of time before Mom found my treasure trove and totally murdered me…

“Trent!” Mom screeched down the hall before I could even close the front door. She charged down the hall and was in front of me before I could even put my bag on the ground. “Have you been eating junk food in this house young man?”

“Um…” Shit. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Trent! Do You know how bad that is for you? You should be ashamed of yourself!”

“Well… Whatever. Just give it a rest Mom.”

“Give it a…? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?”

“Just get off my back for once, okay? I'm getting really sick of this family. You're always acting like such a bitch the whole time. And you wonder why for some reason nobody likes you.”

And with that I stormed to my room and slammed the door. I could hear Mom yelling and outraged behind me, but I was too intoxicated by some very dumb form of bravery to pay much attention.

I waited for my punishment to come, at first for hours and then for days, but instead an eerie calm settled in the house. This was really weird, why hadn't super-Nazi yelled at me yet and banned me from everything? Had I upset her? We were finishing dinner a few days later. Pasta, nothing special. As Mom got up to clear the table, she lent in and spoke to me. “Stick around Trent. I've got a surprise for you.”. Um… okay.

I decided to play along. No consequences had come from the argument the other day, so I didn't want to rock the boat just yet. Once the table was clear and the rest of the family were elsewhere, Mom invited me into the kitchen. “Look Trent. I had a think about it and I wanted to apologize. It was just a couple of chocolate bars and I went way off the deep end. Anyway, that's not the real issue. The bigger issue is that we don't communicate or spend time together. And yelling at you over nothing just makes that worse.” “Uh… okay. Well, thank you.” I wasn't convinced, but an apology wasn't a bad thing. “Anyway, I thought it could be a good bonding exercise…” Oh fuck, here we go. “…if we had a regular mother-son bonding night.” “No Mom, that's totally not ne…” “I'm not finished!” she was stern but measured, “So I thought, if you wanted to eat junk food, maybe we could do some baking together?” Whoa, whoa, whoa! Baking? Mom hated that stuff. In my whole life I'd never seen her eat anything that wasn't mega-healthy. I was insanely skeptical about the whole ordeal, but I guess this was a weird attempt at “nice” mom, so I should probably go with it to avoid a fight. “Okay mom, that sounds like… fun.”

Now, this may not seem weird to you, but you don't know my mother. Besides being a mega-bitch, she was also a no-nonsense, serious business woman and fitness nut. Fun and food don't enter this equation at all… ever. We went to the beach every now and then and I can confidently say that Mom has one of the least appealing bodies I've ever seen. I know she's my Mom and all, but even so she has the least interesting figure I've ever seen. Even in a bikini all you can see is thigh gap, no hips, no ass, no cleavage, no nothing. Not an ounce of pudge on her stick-like figure. And that was how she liked it, cold, simple and controlled. She kept to a grueling weekly exercise schedule, and probably hadn’t touched a chip, ice cream or chocolate in decades. So, offering to bake cookies and have “bonding” time was weird to say the least.

The whole ordeal was awkward and tense. We didn't really know what to say to each other, so we just blankly told each other instructions and worked at making cupcakes all but blindly. Once the tray was done, I offered Mom the first bite. “Trent, I haven't eaten one of these in years. I can do without the sugar in my system.” Then why the hell did you bake these with me? “Well I'm not eating a whole tray of them mom. Plus, didn't you say it was a bonding thing?” “Well yeah but…” I could see mom was trying to stop the inner Nazi creeping back, “Okay. Okay, I'll have a couple. Your right, this is bonding time.”

Mom's world didn't get turned upside down, but she'd definitely forgotten exactly how good cupcakes were. I mean they were alright, but she loved them. She had one, and then two, and then four, and eventually half of the tray. It wasn't heaps, but it was more than I'd expect from her. I didn't even know here skinny ass had room for all of them. But that wasn't the most surprising bit. After a couple of them she actually started to become… kind of fun. Or at least the conversation livened up a bit. She hadn't had candy in years so she was asking me about chocolate brands. It turns out she had as much of a sweet tooth when she was young that I do. It was weird, it was kind of like we were bonding or something.

Mom enjoyed the sneaky baking night so much that she suggested that Thursday become our regular bonding session. Mom, for the first time in a long time, felt like we had really made a connection. I hadn't grumbled or given one word answers, and she had dialed her Nazi factor to a minimom. The last thing she whispered to me as we crept back to our rooms was a request to bring something sweet for next week, and slipped me a $20. The next week we chowed down on M&Ms and corn chips, laughing quietly. The week after that I show her Froot Loops, and she's entranced by her first doughnut in an eternity. I begin to suspect that finally having sugar back in her system is somehow killing her grumpy vibes.

That eventually brought me to my current position, watching my slim mother finish tubs of ice cream, packets of chips or whatever else she hadn't touched in a decade and a half of marriage like a woman a couple times her size. At first it was reserved, cautious bites, but as the weekly sessions continued Mom's technique became more and more reckless, I had seen her dribble chocolate sauce, or splutter down a scoop of ice cream that was simply too much for her. I wasn't much better, watching Mom somewhat forgo manners encouraged me to do similar. As our table manners had become somewhat sloppy we had to make a new rule; no clothing, only underwear. It wasn't too weird or anything, Mom didn't have the ass, hips or even breasts to make a pair of underwear look any more appealing than a burqua. Still, I can't say that there wasn't something entrancing about a strict, fit woman like my mom stripped down and devouring family pack of Doritos like it was the first food she'd seen all week.

“Can you hand me that wing?” my mother asked, despite working through a handful of chips. I was meant to be a football practice right now, but I had been able to convince Mom to take a detour on the way. Currently we were sitting in the KFC car park, and I was helping my Mother finish the first fast food order (family size, no less), that she had had since meeting Dad. “I have to ask,” I said, handing Mom her wing, “how can you go from being such a health nut to chowing down on fried chicken in a car park?” “Well…” Mom swallowed a bite, “I guess I'd just forgotten how good everything tasted. Can you believe I went 15 years without a jelly doughnut? God, I can't imagine going a week without one now!”

That was half an explanation, but I had noticed her mood had improved tenfold since we had started mother-son bonding time. Okay, so she put on the figurative Nazi uniform for day to day stuff, but since she had let sugar back into her life she had started I had seen her laughing, smiling and joking. Hell, when she tried first peanut buttercup she danced that skinny body around the room in joy. And speaking of that skinny body… “Yeah, fair enough. But aren't you scared that Dad will notice?” I was treading carefully now. “What? No way. I mean, we're cautious about it. I destroy all the evidence and we always make sure we never get any on our clothes.” “Um…” Oh boy, “No that's now what I meant. You don't exactly look like that woman there do you?” I pointed to a particular woman waddling from restaurant to car, immense anatomy jiggling away. “No, of course not!” Mom laughed. “Well, what's Dad going to say when you start to?” Mom's face dropped. “Oh, come on Trent! I'm not a big fat slob.” “I know that, but the fact of the matter is that if you keep up all these jelly doughnuts one day he'll notice that your behind fills out your pants a bit better.” “As if, that bastard hasn't paid attention to my behind in years.” Mom said that last comment more to herself than me. “Ew!” “Well you brought it up,” Mom bit back, “Let's just say that the size of my behind is none of his business. I'm having fun and I'm having it with someone who knows how to. And he can just deal with that!” Mom swallowed a handful of chips as an exclamation point.

Dad may not have paid much attention to her ass, but it wasn't long before I was. Mom was serving the family dinner one night and she had to lean across the table to place the platter down. It was clear that her ass was become a little more shapely than usual, which was dangerous. A night or two later Dad even made a vague comment about it. Mom just shrugged it off. “No, I hadn't noticed anything.” Mom lied convincingly, “Might just be working off a bit of the Christmas weight still.” It was enough to throw him off the trail, but I noticed whilst cleaning up after dinner that night Mom was stuffing her face with dinner's leftovers instead of throwing them away. As if to spite him or something.

“Check this out!” my mother said sneakily before one of our secret feasts and she pulled her top off above her head, revealing to me the source of her excitement. Her once proud, firm, flat stomach was now going to way of her but and becoming a greedy little pot belly. Not very large, but enough to say “Cath has been enjoying herself a little too much recently”. Mom gently slapped her gut and giggled a little. “Oh dear…” a sudden fear overtook me. Mom looked mildly upset, “What? Aren't you impressed?” “Its hard to be when I know that Dad will go apeshit over it.” Mom smiled “Oh, lighten up. Trying to hide it is half the fun. That's what makes it so… naughty!” She giggled to herself again. We drank chocolate sauce that night and ate danish pastries. Mom devoured hers like a starved animal, eating a portion that should have lasted her a couple of days. As her appetite dwindled, the conversation returned to her figure. “You never gave me a response Trent,” she said cheekily, “What do you think of my figure?” With that she again slapped her chocolate stained belly. “I… I think it looks great. It's like a little reminder that you're secretly a glutton.” Mom laughed, “You cheeky bastard! Anyway, you're one to talk! You'll probably have to start buying the size above 'scrawny' if you keep this up.” “Hey, what are you saying?” I looked down at my chest, which I couldn't deny was a lot flabbier than it used to be. My super slim figure had entered the great void between ano and pudgy. “Okay, fair enough. But I'm not meant to be the health freak. I can stand to gain a couple of pounds.” “Well, we've both put on a bit then.” Mom smiled, “I kind of like it. Its just a bit of fun and the fact that we're both looking a little more *generous* is kind of nice. Its a bit like we're sharing something… something other people don't understand.”

Mom and Dad began fighting soon after. I was never in the middle of it but an educated guess told me that it had to do with Mom's lax fitness. Dad was blaming her not setting a good example, and other vague things that made it seem like a moral issue. Mom either played dumb and became defensive, blaming stress and lack of time rather than stuffing her face. One Saturday we were preparing for a family trip to the beach when it became tense and awkward as Mom stepped out of her bedroom in her swimsuit. Whilst Mom's flabbier figure was noticeable these days, it was still confronting to see her once svelte bikini body now looking jiggly and constricted by her swimmers. Her belly was beginning to hang a little over her pants, and was laced with lots of tiny stretch marks across her gut. As she walked with a spring in her step out of the car and down to the sand, her now substantial ass wobbled hypnotically. Had the impossible happened? Had Mom actually started be become a sexy woman? It was hard to deny it as I snuck a couple of glances at her bosom in her undersized bra, but by the looks of it Dad didn't agree. He didn't mention anything, but he communicated with Mom that day solely in death-stares and short barked statements.

“The weirdest thing happened to me today,” said Mom with a mouthful of caramel slice, “I was at the supermarket and I ran into Sandy.” “Old neighbor Sandy?” I said after finally swallowing a jam doughnut. “Yeah, the older woman. Well, we were chatting and out of nowhere she asked me when I was due!” “As in…” I looked down at Mom's belly, now very swollen and riddled with stretch marks. Her belly simply couldn't keep up with the amount of calories that my mother was putting in her body, not that she was much concerned. “…pregnant?” “Yeah! I know right! I thought I was looking more spoiled than pregnant but there you go.” Mom gripped her gut and gave it a jiggle for effect smudging chocolate on herself. It was hard to deny that it protruded a bit too far to be a holiday indulgence, but it was far to fleshy to pass as pregnant. “That is weird” “You know,” she finished her mouthful and opened a pack of Oreos, “I found it kind of flattering! Its weird but I actually like the feeling of someone noticing and commenting on how fat I'm getting. It makes me feel kind of… sexy.” As soon as Mom said it she looked extremely guilt. “Um… sorry! I know that's a bit… weird…” she attempted to eat her words. “What? No mom, its fine. I've never told you this but I always thought you were really unsexy and boring. But the past couple of weeks, when you've really started to fill out, I've actually thought you looked… well, good. Like really good.”

“Trent no, you don't have to say that to me…” “No Mom, its true.” I reassured her, “Nothing weird or anything, but as a dude I can tell when a woman looks good. And believe me, you've got a really nice set of hips and good ass now.” “Um…” Mom looked a little disgusted, “Thanks? My son's not trying to make a move on me is he?” Ew! Oh god, this had all come out wrong. I started blushing. “No, no, no! That's gross Mom! I'm not a weirdo! No… I was just saying that in my professional opinion your behind is looking better these days. And hell, that's not hard considering you were a twig before.” Mom laughed, “I'm just teasing you Trent! No, I know what your saying. I used to think that skinny was sexy, but recently I've been seeing women with big behinds, big chests or fat thighs and I find myself staring at them. Just the way they move is kind of… exciting.” Mom finished the pack of Oreos and burped. It was quiet and polite, but she didn't excuse herself.

Mom and Dad's fights had gotten worse, and I was starting to worry about them. Dad had found an empty chip packet under the bed, and to add insult to injury Mom was wearing pajamas that were many many pounds too small for her when he confronted her. I watched from the stairs as Dad told her off, and poked the spot where belly now hung out from under her pajama top. He threw words around like fat pig and lazy bitch. As I stood from a distance I felt something concerning happen; a heat growing in my pants. As I looked at my mother from the side, and how much space she now took up in front of her, I could feel myself throbbing. As Dad accused her of things she was completely guilty of, and poking her excessive fleshy evidence, I began rising fast. Shit! This was weird and I didn't like it, but it was going to happen none the less. I knew that if I heard Dad refer to the size of her ass I was probably going to have an accident, so I swiftly snuck away to the bathroom. As my member throbbed harder, I did whatever to try and push my mother's thick figure out of my mind. When nothing came I finally opened my eyes and immediately locked onto my answer, a flabby, slightly pudgy, very lazy young man who was beginning to outgrow his clothing. I began to strip in front of the mirror, my mother only just out of my mind as I thought about how flabby and out of shape I had become. When I came, I could do little except repress and forget that this moment had ever happened, with the thought of “at least you didn't masturbate to your own mother” keeping me sane.

It wasn't long after that that Dad filed for a divorce, and Mom and I had to move out. Far from being distraught, Mom seemed relieved. She quickly found as a small apartment a few miles away, and our housewarming party was an evening of stuffing our faces without having to hide it. We had ordered pizzas, KFC and a platter of pastries to hold us over. “Here's to good riddance!” my mother said with a raised beer, which she quickly sculled before returning to her family dinner box. Without having to worry about waking the family, she chowed down noisily and with even less abandon than she had before. We still ate in our underpants for tradition's sake though, and Mom's fat protruding gut and now eye catching cleavage were becoming gently splattered with chicken grease and pizza. Once again I tapped out well before she did, and ended up watching her stuff her face late into the evening. When finally I talked her into giving it a rest, I had to help her out of her chair and towards her bedroom. I was starting to get concerned.

In the weeks after moving in Mom slowly began to wrap her days around eating, sleeping and watching TV. My concerns were only growing. I thought that maybe the house-warming feast was a one-off but Mom seemed to become more and more determined to dedicate her days to enjoying herself. I tried to have “the health talk” with her a couple of times, but each time I wimped out. I mean, she's a grown woman and she can make her own decisions right? Okay, so maybe keeping the fridge stocked full of chocolate bars and left over pizza wasn't helping but it was getting harder and harder to be assertive. And secretly, I was enjoying seeing her mammoth breasts and thunder thighs increase far more than I would admit. The fear for her health and the guilt for enjoying it had started to give me acute anxiety, and I found myself eating, snacking and gorging more regularly these days. I wasn't proud of it, but if I had to eat poorly I had definitely found the right house to do it in.

Mom on the other hand was just as happy and playful as always. “Trent!” Mom called across the house, “Come have a look at this!” With the bowl of cake batter I had been mixing under my arm, I jogged across the apartment to my mother's bathroom. Against the white, pristine tiles my Mother's flabby, cellulite ridden, sunlight-deprived flesh was dirty and out of place. She stood atop the bathroom scales, looking down at the numbers with a bag cheese rings in one hand and a wad of her belly flesh in the other. She was clad in nothing but a bra, her gigantic bare ass facing me at the door. My god, how wide she had gotten! It was hard to imagine any of her pants fitting her anymore. “Jesus Mom! Put some pants on!” Mom laughed as she looked up at me in the mirror. “Oh Trent, you're such a prude! I'm not like you're going to be seeing anything down there any time soon!” And with that Mom gently patted the spot where her fat gut now hung over her privates. “But what about your ass?!” “Oh my god!” a look of wonder overtook my mother. She moved the hand on her stomach to her immense behind. “Have you seen this thing? When I got out of the shower I decided to leave my towel off and I got a glimpse of it in the mirror. This thing got BIG!” “…mom?” “This thing is immense, and juicy! I'm lezzing out a bit here.” “Mom!” She laughed again, “You're so easy to wind up Trent! I'm not joking though, I'm so impressed by the size of my ass. It feels great too! So soft, so squishy!” I stood there in blankly, bowl under arm, feeling an erection growing against my will. Mom took offense to the silence. “Oh come on Trent! You're the one who was telling me that as a dude you were an 'ass professional'. Well trust me, you're going to want to feel this. And you should probably do it soon before all that KFC turns my ass into a giant, shapeless mass.” I reluctantly agreed, heart beating like crazy. Mom graciously took the mixing bowl from me and began helping herself. I sheepishly laid my hands on the cellulite of her left cheek, taking it in for a moment, then groping the lard. It was indeed amazing; soft, fleshy and immense. I took my time, feeling the flesh at different points and acquainting myself with the geography of her meaty behind.

“Well…” she filled her mouth with cake batter before continuing, “Aren't you going to jiggle that thing?” “Um…” my erection was already at critical mass, “Is that okay? You won't feel weird?” “Oh please! You don't think I've spent the last hour and a half in front of the mirror watching my ass wobble?” And with that she brought down five plump, batter-smeared digits, grasped her lardy behind and began shaking the flesh hard and mercilessly. It was too much. I could feel my member reaching the final stages, and without an plan or excuse I simply ran out of the bathroom. I came my pants half-way down the hall. I came up with some half-assed excuse later.

Finding my now lardy Mother hot was fucking with my head. When she walked down the hall, the size of her ass was starting to give her a bit of a waddle and I found it so hot I couldn't concentrate. The way she stuffed her hefty breasts into criminally undersized bras was too much for me. Not even her total abandon of table manners could turn me off; there was something kind of cute about the was she noisily stuffed her face and managed to spill food all down herself. I tried to distract myself with food, often locking myself in my room with cake, McDonald's or chips and chowing down until the bad thoughts went away. When I sat across from her at dinner I had keep my mouth full and my hands re-applying food just to keep me from focusing on the way Mom's breasts jiggled as she enjoyed her nightly gorge. As the weeks rolled on we both becoming more ample. I tried not to look at myself when I got out of the shower, because the few times that I did I always felt a toxic mix of shame and arousal. I was quickly becoming a big fat boy, complete with boy-boobs, a double chin and a big chocolate-filled belly. I didn't even want to think about the hefty ass I was growing, but then again I tried to drown out most thoughts with ice cream and chips. Mom on the other hand was positively delighted to show off her new fat, seldom wearing more that a bra. She'd often loudly exclaim to herself how fat her ____ was. And indeed, her everything was getting fat. She walked slower and lost her breath easily. Her boobs and her ass were loosing their shape to gravity and cellulite, and her immense belly was making it hard to get comfortable. She would sometimes use her belly like a table when she sat in front of the TV, and if she was feeling particularly lazy she would have me wipe her down with a cloth afterward to avoid having to get up.

Mom drank the final gulp from a bottle of cooking oil and tossed it to the side of her armchair. She had taken a liking to the stuff recently, claiming that it reminded her of the residue from a heavy, greasy fry-up. She let out a deep burp from low in her gut, followed by an amused giggle. Oil had dribbled right down to her mini skirt, itself bulging and verging on useless, her thighs far to hefty for it. We were in the living room, vaguely watching a reality show about rich housewives. One of the women was showing off a new horse, riding it around the paddock.

My mother spoke up after a moment, “What do you reckon a horse tastes like honey?” “Mom?” “Well a horse is just meat like anything else right? You could roast the whole thing no problem…” Mom brought a pudgy hand onto her gut and began rubbing it hungrily. “Or better yet, deep fry one!” “Don't say things like that. People love horses.” “Could you imagine that?” Her eyes lit up with mischief. “Some poor skinny woman crying over her favorite horse, searching for her pride and joy, and then me, at home, stuffing my face with it and loving every mouthful! I'll give myself a heart attack just thinking about it…” “Mom! Don't say that! That's really messed up!” “Oh? I'm sorry?” The mischief turned to mock surprise. This was never a good sign. “You think that *I'm* messed up?” That tone of voice was a the second warning. “No Mom. Whatever your thinking of doing, don't do it!” Mom turned her sarcastic innocent voice up to the max, “Wow Trent, you're looking a bit pudgy today. Did you put on a bit of weight?” I could feel the blood heading towards my member. “Mom!” “Actually, now that I look at you…” Mom groaned and began heaving her massive ass out of the chair, before lumbering towards me, “…you've become a little piggy haven't you?” She placed two pudgy hands on my obese gut. They were cold and intimate, and I let out a little gasp. I became hard almost instantly. “Oh god…”. “Were you embarrassed in the changing rooms,” she started vigorously wobbling my belly fat, “when you were 30 pounds heavier than the next fattest boy? Did they call you names?” Fuck. I breathed in heavily, my thick frame jiggling in my armchair and pinned in place by my mother and by the grips of ecstasy. “Look at what you've done to yourself piggy!” She raised a hand to my now sizable man boob, gently gyrating over it. “I would have killed for tits like these a year ago. But you just can't say no to junk food can you? Imagine if your father could see what a fat pig you've become?” Fuck. Fuck. “Remember what you looked like a year ago? How does it feel to have made yourself obese, you fat fucking slob?” I came in my pants. Mom took her hands off me, stood up straight, and looked at me with victorious amusement. “So, which one of us is messed up again sweetie?” I had to catch my breath before I responded. “Touche.”

Mom's lard, stuffed into a tortured pair of leggings, jiggled away in front of me as we approached the restaurant. The two of us, both approaching Wall-Mart levels of obesity, must have been quite a sight to behold as we struggled to keep our vast portions of fat inside our clothing as we waddled though the car park. Mom miraculously managed to persuade her ass inside the front door, although she grinned mischievously as she did it. “Table for two please.” my mother's lips produced, surrounded by a sea of flesh. The waiter quickly hid his shock at the size of the woman and showed her to her two seats. I recalled the woman mom used to be as she dropped her greedy body onto the chairs. It was hard to think this wide, monstrously ample woman with a hunger in her eyes was once so tiny and so plain. She could well be looking at me and be thinking the same thing, I had piled on more weight and was having trouble breathing and walking. My man boobs and my belly were growing beyond my control. “So why did we come to this restaurant?” I said in a hushed tone, well aware that our very presence threatened to make a scene. “Be patient Trent. This is the two year anniversary of when we started doing this, so I've got something special planned.” And with that Mom winked at me.

I played along, and I had to wait until we were half-way through our entrees before it was finally showtime. “Reservation for two.” a voice carried across the room. I processed the information for a moment before dropping my fork. “Is that…” I hissed at Mom “…Dad?” I already knew the answer. Across the room Dad was already being guided to his seat. He was looking far better dressed than I had ever seen him. He was guiding a woman by the hand, a tiny well dressed woman who I didn't recognize. This was all too much. “I told you I planned something special!” my Mother giggled with excitement. And with that she slowly heaved her fat ass out of her chairs and started making a slow, lumbering journey across the room. I could feel my body slowly sinking into a vat of embarrassment as my huge, ill-dressed mother jiggled her body across the room. Finally she made it. “Oh, what a surprise!” my mother squawked. There was a long, long moment of hesitation. My father's face flashed with confusion, understanding, disgust and further confusion before he finally discovered a response. “Oh my god… Is that really you?” he stammered. “Who else would it be silly?” she laughed. “Is this… a sick joke?” “What's wrong, you don't recognize your ex-wife?” Dad scanned the room and made eye contact with me. Disgust fell over his face. “Dear god, is that Trent?! What fuck have you done to our son?” “Ex wife?!” The pretty woman almost choked. “Of course!” mom continued happily, “I mean, I might have put on a bit of weight…” and with that she shook her immense belly with both hands in the faces of the mortified couple. Across the room I could feel myself getting hard under the table. “Jesus, this is fucked. I'm I don't have to deal with this…” shrieked the woman. As loudly as possible she got up and stormed out of the restaurant. The whole room turned silent. After a moment, Dad's confusion turned to rage. He turned to my mother, “Look what you've done now you fat fucking bitch. No! No… better yet look what you've done to yourself. Look how you and your son can't stop piling food into your mouths for one fucking second. You've totally ruined yourself!Your the size of a house! And you've turned the boy into a fucking garage along the way!” “Well,” my Mom said with a cheeky smile and one sensual finger drawing circles on her gut, “ I guess I may be a resort by next year!” “That's it,” my father said warily, “You've lost your mind. I'm out of here…” and with that he silently made his way out of the building.

As soon Mom and I burst through the front door we began throwing off our clothes as we rushed to the kitchen. We both grabbed whatever we could carry in both our arms before running (the slower, fleshier kind of running) to Mom's big master bathroom and sat in front of the floor length mirror. We removed the remaining clothing and we started eating ravenously. We stared at our own, obese reflections as we devoured anything we had. I began rubbing myself as I watched all my folds, rolls and flab in the reflection. I turned to my mother and took in her bare flesh; grotesquely obese, stuffing her face and using her free hand to grope the many different parts of her landscape. She eventually found what she was after deep between her thighs and started rubbing furiously, her gaze entranced by the fat woman eating and masturbating in the reflection. This is all that mattered, consumption and pleasure. I came but I continued, consuming and pleasuring myself. Eventually my mother and I found each other, and we began fondling each others' fat, exploring what we had done to each other. It was all a blur. I came on her fat as she groped me and inspected just how obese I had made myself. She began sucked me hungrily. I penetrated her while she ate, her flesh engulfing me, churning like an ocean in a storm. The gigantic ball of lard barely acknowledged me, too engrossed in stuffing her face full of cake. Her body was so vast and I lost myself in it. That is all that matters, consumption and pleasure.

Don't suppose we could bump this thread? I've been dying for some relative on relative action (I couldn't care less about the videos from before, as I just want some more fiction.) I would try it myself, but I'm a shit writer :(

Weeks after that fateful night discussions with Scott came to a stalemate with neither parent wanting to give up custody. Lucy couldn't go any longer without seeing her son and she knew he wouldn't be happy living with his father. So she decided to do what was necessary. When the divorce lawyers got involved she was ready, she showed her's the pictures she had taken after the fight of the bruise that Scott had given her. He had slapped her around the face in a fit of rage and even though he had shown remorse afterwards the evidence was pretty solid pretty damning. By the time this evidence was presented to him, along with her testimony that she had man-handled their son and bullied him about his weight, Scott had no choice but to relinquish his request for custody unless he wanted charges brought against him. He was absolutely livid, but he knew he was defeated. Arrangements were made for the couple to move out of and sell the family home with both of them finding smaller houses to rent. Lucy found a two bedroom flat in the same suburb, nice if a little cozy.

Even though she had explained the situation over and over again with her son, Lucy was extremely nervous as she waited outside her apartment for her sister to drop her son off. After an eternity the car finally pulled up out front. Sarah stepped out and yelled a “hello” but curiously no other door opened. Sarah quickly hurried over to the back door, opened it, and lent in to undo Toby's seatbelt and help heave him. It became apparent to Lucy that her son had, indeed, put on some weight. The once trim boy exited the vehicle with some difficulty and took a moment to get his balance. It was the same smiling face she'd seen before but it was rounder. As she approached she could see that the t-shirt she'd sent him away in was now struggling to do it's job. It was very tight across his chest and she could see her son had developed slight boy-bosoms, and his gut was pushed his shirt way up revealing his almost pregnant-looking midriff. His shorts were beginning to constrict his now quite thick thighs, and it looked like he was about to develop a double chin. He must have put on something like 50 lbs in the 5 weeks he'd been staying with his aunt. She did her best to hide her shock.“Toby!! Come here sweetie!” She grabbed him in a huge embrace, trying not to think about how soft her son now felt. As she pulled back she could see that her boy was crying too. “Welcome home baby!”After some catching up by the car, Sarah suggested Toby run upstairs and have a look at the new place while the sisters begin hauling his stuff out of the car.

Brother comes home from out of country to stay with sister. Brother shows pictures of his "girlfriend" who is extremely fat that shocks sister. Insert subplot of sister secretly having an incest fetish after seeing her brother as a man, then debating with herself whether she should become a huge fucking blob just to chase a fantasy.I'm a shit writer, but I could envision several endings to the story. One that I find the most interesting is the brother leaving the sister (with confused feelings) to go out of country. Then, after breaking up with GF, coming back again and finding a huge fucking blob.Thoughts?

>>1401That sounds awesome. The parents could start getting suspicious, sister finding new ways to sneak calories into her diet, working up the moral depravity to masturbate to pics on his facebook haha..

i know i was just pushing some Writing.com stories but this sounds like a good premise for a new story. That could pretty much be the whole of chapter one about her seeing her brother as an adult, finding out about his gf, he leaves and she has to decide if and how she's gonna get fat.

>>1460Wow. I never thought I would get praise from the great Flesh himself! I'm terrible at writing, but I'm slowly working out how to start the story. Hell, I might just put it on writing.com and just leaving up multiple ways for the story to go.

Just saw the new "Spider-Man: Homecoming" movie; wouldn't mind seeing a story where Aunt May becomes massive and develops feelings for Peter (he reminds her so much of her late husband, Ben), but decides to repress them… that is, until she realizes she's his aunt only through marriage!

people get touchy sometimes. i remember I contributed to magic ring on one of the branches about the son becoming obese (which to me is pretty queer in itself but w/e…) and gave the chapter an option where your character can become transgender while they become obese because they love huge women.

and like fair enough, that's pretty fucked up, but within a day the option was taken down. weird place to draw the line in a gayish weight gain / incest story.

I know I keep saying it but if you guys want new content you should do some writing yourselves because there's not much stuff out there. Even just short stories posted here or contributions to Writing.com threads are appreciated.

I'm always looking for new WG/incest stuff from all over the net but it's pretty rare. If I find anything I'll share it here first.

I'm pretty busy these days but if I'm going to do any more writing I'd probably finish off Momma's Boy first since its got potential to get pretty dark. I don't have any other strong ideas at the moment and the idea of a son being pampered into obesity is the one that's interesting me the most at the moment. But I'm not in a rush to finish it right now so don't hold your breath.

>>1856Please, please finish the story. I found inspiration for my story in yours and I'll try and write it down, even thou I'm a shit/novice writer.

Just maybe a request/wish from my part… I wouldn't dare to "command"/"order" you how or abouth what you write, but could you put in some elements of hiding his weight? This part was such a turn on :>>660" “Aw Toby! Please don't cry!” she was starting to get distressed now, “What if… what if I happened to have a pack Reese's Pieces left over from Halloween?”Toby stopped crying for a moment, “Mom?” “I know you're not meant to have snacks on your swimming diet,” Lucy said slyly as she fished the packet out from its hiding place under the sink, “but what your father doesn't know won't kill him.”Lucy knew straight away when she saw her son's eyes light up that she had done the right thing. Toby wolfed the entire pack down like a hungry dog, thanking his mom over and over and over. Truth is she didn't do it for the thanks, just to see her boy smile was enough.

Scott yelled at his son during the next weigh in, and he screamed at him in the one after. Toby was still terrified of his father but he couldn't say “no” to his mother's sneaky treats. It was a milkshake here and a cupcake with cream there but the microscopic changes in the reading on the scale were enough to set his father off."

Loved it to death and would be really happy if I could read more about her hiding his weight.

I was also thinking of morphing a picture or two for the story if you want.

>>1860Hmm, domming Mom, wanting to just eat and play video games all the time. Mommy starting to worry about his weight so she starts to massage his fat so he doesn't get decubitus wounds, because he sits all the time. She gets turned on by his fat, but can't and won't admit that to herself.

Also love the idea that he likes his tight clothes (his trunks) so he just continues to wear them.

The were all unclean in the family. Father was a harsh, older white man who'd had the joy sucked out of him slowly over the years. It was his second marriage and all preconceptions of love and companionship and eventually evaporated. He would keep Mother on edge with emotional ambiguity, frequent outbursts of verbal abuse, and occasionally laying a hand upon her. He felt like life had fucked dealt him a bad hand. Mother was a victim but she wasn't pure. A younger woman, part Turkish, she'd spent a good portion of her life manipulating the weaknesses of men's sexuality and narrow ambitions to a life of luxury. Hence why she'd married a cold, wealthy man. But instead of freedom and luxury she'd found herself the stress-ball of a cowardly, bitter man. If he felt the hand of fate had short-changed him, then she saw only her own hand failing her. Then there was Son. I can't be said whether or not he came out of the womb clean, or if he was born endowed with his mother's lack of human compassion. Either way, his mother groomed him into a machine that set goals and made straight lines toward them.

She taught him early on that people were animals adept to at licking their wounds, and helping them didn't inherently change this behaviour. Instead she taught him to shed the human emotions that didn't serve him. This resulted in an overachiever by middle school who had little in the way of friends. And who didn't care. His father didn't trust him, and neither should he have. His mother didn't either, but she was smart enough to design him an Achilles heel. By the time he hit puberty she discretely plied him with pornography, which he took too heavily. Then she started working out. Hard. She was always slim, but with a regular routine she was became a knockout. Olive skin, very slim, but with a tiny bit of ass and bosom, long legs with a distinct thigh-gap, strong middle eastern facial features and long black hair. After make-up and figure hugging clothes she was a diagram of teenage desire, arranged in no subtle manner. Father thought it was a cheap bid for his attention, and like all the small amounts of power he was given he squandered it by ignoring her. But her son did not.

And so, the otherwise cold and unfeeling boy now had a compass; a sexual addiction. And mother had something over him. He would watch her, taking in her beauty, trying not to be caught staring at her slight frame when she wore her swimsuit or her workout gear. He could see her ribs, her pelvic bones, the sexy little space between her legs carved out like by god or something like him. He was obsessive and she played to it.

She set sewed the seeds. She would show him outfits and ask his opinion. Make him compare her to celebrities and, eventually, the women in his magazines. She asked him if he liked her like he liked other women and he said yes, with none of the fear or hesitation you'd find in a person. She told him that she didn't mind, but she warned him his father would. She reminded him of what an oppressive, emotional, irrational man his father was. A man compiled of all the things mother and son had weeded out of themselves.

After several more discussions like this, mother and son decided that they'd be better off without father. And squeamishness aside, he'd be more manageable dead than divorced. Wives were always the first suspects in a homicide, so they decided that mother's prints couldn't be anywhere near this. Son was diligent and researched lethal alternatives to father's heart medication. Two weeks later he suffered a massive heart-attack and ended up in hospital. After a couple of days he suffered a bad reaction to his medication and had another heart attack that killed him. His son was with him until the end.Mother and son let the dust settle. Without suspicion they received life insurance that matched the late patriarch's hefty salary as his wife didn't work. It was more than they needed and mother took them out to dinner to celebrate. Her late husband had no taste for lavish food and never took her out, so tonight she over-ordered and picked at her many dishes like a greedy king. When they got home they retired to the bedroom and son asked to pleasure his mother. Mother explained to him that its was an act against God, a notion he didn't understand. She explained that there were things they could do safely without crossing the boundary. She put on a sultry jazz album and treated her son to an exotic display, a slow dance where she removed each layer. He watched her slowly reveal her thin, athletic form. Thin beats of sweat dripped down her boney physique. She showed him her pert tits, then her damp little pussy, and slid her cheeks apart to give him a glimpse of her asshole as he beat off furiously.

Between mouthfuls at the restaurant she explained to him what he could do in lieu of full-blown penetration. They would search through a catalogue of male escorts and she'd let her son pick his surrogate. He would hide in the wardrobe and beat off whilst his mother would run through preplanned scenarios of his choice. They'd eaten out almost every night since the insurance pay-out, and she seemed to adore burning her husband's money on courses and sides. The settled on a traditionally handsome but rather skinny gigolo who looked like he could play her son in a movie. They had very vanilla sex and she repeated the cheesy, teenage sex cliches her son had written for her. He knew he had room to improve but he beat off in the cupboard nonetheless.

With her son entranced and her husband dead, mother dropped the gym routine like a bad habit. She kept up the sexy clothing and the make-up though, these were luxury items and she deserved to look good. This washer retirement and she aimed to enjoy it, filling her days with things that brought her pleasure and scrapping those that she'd only kept up for the sake of social interaction. Her son was less than enthused that the sex he'd been all but promised failed to materialise, but he knew that his mother had a point. He instead focused on making the cupboard situation as ideal as possible, now getting his mother fucked on a weekly basis whilst he improved dialogue, positions and viewing angles.

Three months passed and he was still unsatisfied. He'd run through so many scenarios that the taboo and excitement had all but faded. He was masturbating twice a day and grew less and less satisfied. He just kept thinking back to that first night when his mother had given him the dance that represented compromise. That woman, so slim and so flexible, slowly stripping and revealing to him the things he wouldn't have. That body and that dance would live on and on and on in his memory. And it would have to, as he watched in silent horror as his mother let that body fall to ruin. Her all-day sessions of luxury gorging, lounging and sleeping-in had caused her to plump up. And quickly. Her son watched shower, fuck, eat and get changed with dismay. He told himself that she was only a couple months away from the woman he almost fucked that night. As she stripped down to have sex with one of her regulars, he almost lost his boner as she slid her pants down to reveal a muffin top where she'd once had those perfect pelvic bones showing through.Determined to take her enjoyment to the next level, she hired an in-house chef to prepare meals for her. She grew fatter. You see, another woman of her class, age and social status would have a different set of priorities and would be mortified at their physical appearance showing the signs of greed or laziness and making others uncomfortable. But she only masqueraded as what we'd call a person, and now that she'd achieved unprecedented levels of personal freedom she dedicated herself to self pleasure. She didn't hide her overeating, and her son had a front row seat to watch his mother become obese.

He admitted he enjoyed how big her boobs became, but the rest was crime against nature. Watching her thigh gap cave in at a glacial pace was torture, until one day they finally touched. And then they touched a lot. Around the same time her ass went from “respectable” to “kinky” and then finally heading towards “lower class”. He watched it jiggle as his mother left the room and felt as though someone had let a leak ruin a Rembrant, leaving it bloated and saggy. It became harder and harder to watch the men fuck his mother with her stomach looking like a pregnancy of desserts, bouncing away with each pound. He asked her point blank during her breakfast waffles one morning, how fat she was planning to become. She barely looked up from her meal to tell him off for his rudeness. He quipped that watching a flabbier version of his trophy-mother get pounded by someone who actually looked after their body wasn't what he signed up for.

She knew this was coming. As she helped herself to another crème brule and cream in the darkness later that night she weighed up her options. She could kill him too, but it would be too obvious. Plus in the space of a couple of months she'd become in the worst shape of her life. She wasn't going to buck her eating habits she'd worked so hard for and take up gym again for the little brat either. Could she really score an all-round wind or was she going to have to compromise again? Days later she met her son in candle-light in her room and brokered a deal with him. He'd reprogrammed himself before, and she told him that if he could bend his desires toward the now over-endowed and growing more so mother she would give him her body completely. Hesitantly he agreed. She bought him a stack of fat porn mags as a sign of good faith.

He poured over fleshy pornography like a scholar, aligning his favourite women with their unfit counterparts where he could in an attempt to transition himself. He plunged deep into images of obese women and became to wire his brain to see body fat like a mass of something not unlike breasts and ass, plentiful and greedy. Everyone of the women were exerting power and luxury, and everyone of them was his mother. After a week of training he felt like he was ready to begin. They lit the room for of candles and, after a time, his mother walked out of the bathroom in a very tight dress and downright fuckable make-up. He was glad he hadn't waited longer than a week, she was going to be more than a handful tonight at her current size. She played some music again, but this time instead of sultry jazz she put on a sleazy funk number. She began to dance, but at her size she lacked the grace and subtly of last time. She swung her ass, bounced back and forth and her body slightly wobbled and jiggled here and there. She stripped, reclaiming some of her grace again but at times struggling to get her clothing past her heftier portions. Once again she revealed those fat breasts and her big, adorable nipples. She slid her panties down and pussy, whilst submerged in a pair of thick thighs, was still as cute and wet as it had been. Finally her ass, and she definitely didn't retain all of the grace she had used the first time due to the sheer weight of her ass cheek now, but her modest asshole was hot nonetheless. She was nude, overweight and out of breath. He must have acquainted himself with fat women well because he managed to maintain his erection through the whole session.He continued to reprogram himself, masturbating to different aspects of overweight women's bodies and obese lifestyles. Some nights they would fuck, but many they would hire a male prostitute and he'd watch again. The difference was that she'd now yell explicit things relating to her size and her poor health during intercourse to help her son stay submerged in his fat-training. At times he'd sit with her as she'd gorge on something in her underwear, and he'd concentrate on her and masturbate. In her pursuit of gourmet pleasures she was rapidly approaching obesity, and he was quickly becoming attracted to it. Like a fruit perpetually approaching optimum ripeness, she grew heavier and more fertile.

Amongst the weight, the fat-centric sex talk and the general air of “downward spiral” the household full of food wrappers and used condoms was becoming, one by one the gigolos began to give up coming to the house. It reached a point where only the skinny pretty boy from day one was still willing to come and fuck the overweight widow who was slowly eating herself to death in mourning. He'd had court-side seats watching her ass go from centrefold to almost tripling in size, making it harder and harder to penetrate her deeply. It was unpleasant, but she always offered him above and beyond what any other client could give.

A good year after father had died, mother and son planned an anniversary celebration. Son waited in the candle-lit room with baited breath. She came out, her obesity crammed into what would look like lingerie on another woman. She waddled over to the stereo and he took a moment to really take in her size. Still pristine olive skin, still immaculately sexy make-up, and still those striking Turkish features. But gluttony had made her a big girl. Her ass was huge covered in cellulite with chubby cheeks plumped up hard against each other, her tits were massive and threw themselves hard side-to-side. Her neck was littered with chins and her gut was a fat mass of pure greed that hung to keep her perfect pussy away from the world. When she finally made it to the stereo it wasn't jazz or funk, it was some bass heavy Lil Wayne track that started bumping. Mother scrapped the grace and elegance lazily began to wobble her mass with both hands to the beat. It was the least strenuous dance she could muster, and she probably wouldn't have “danced” at all if her son hadn't insisted. She popped her massive melons out and swung them low for her son. She made her ass clap, and spanked herself. She pulled her belly away and underwear to one side to show a pussy buried deep in her thigh fat, a manoeuvre that made her skinnier attempts look like swan lake. Finally, panting, she got on the bed on all fours, facing away from her son, and heaved her massive ass cheeks apart to reveal her comparatively petite asshole, straining for a moment before letting the weight of her ass slap back together.

Exhausted, she pleaded that her son just get on with it. He presented her with an ice cream cake to occupy her, which she chowed down on while he mounted her. His hads grasped large heaps of ass flesh and when properly positioned he slid deep inside of her. He felt every part of her massive body gyrate like a waterbed, a free hand alternately slapping and groping her flabby mass to get a feel for her complete size. Was this the same time woman who's bones lay so close to the surface a year ago? She'd eaten triple her bodyweight in that time, and she was more of a sexual being because of it. She gasped and moaned with pleasure between mouthfuls; penetration perfectly complimented a big meal. Usually he'd take his time, but tonight he lit himself cum in her as soon as the feeling's came. Pleasure, and then the old sensations came to him. He only felt a humongous, warm embrace all over his body. Mid cake, she was disappointed that it had ended so quickly but it was no matter because she'd make him finish her too.

They were both too deep into it now to back off, but it was far too human to assume that shame, morality or a sense of divine guidance were ideas that applied to mother and son. No, this is in the purest sense a happy ending. Two people whittled down to their purest desires and reaching a point in their lives where they had those pleasures as accessible to them as though it were on tap. Him, not only free to masturbate and fucking his way through everyday but also having bent his will to find his mother's predicament the height of arousal. She, given unlimited amounts of sex and food at only the cost of her physical health. But morbidly obese and becoming more so, she did not concern herself with a fear of appearing grotesquely overweight and even less of her impending health issues. If she died 600lbs with an expensive pastry in her mouth she had won.

After marrying my step father Paul, mom started to change. Paul was loaded, and way out of Mom's league, which made the cynical part of me felt like he had picked her because he knew she be obedient. It was subtle at first, but after a few new dresses, a treadmill, a whole heap of makeup and faint mentions of cosmetic surgery it became clear that Paul was trying to create his own trophy wife.

Paul was a douchebag, and I ended up moving inter-state just to be out of his house. Well, that and college. I spoke to Mom regularly though, and she seemed happy enough. After my first semester Mom came down to visit me. We scheduled to meet at a cafe, and I almost didn't recognise the woman who greeted me with a broad smile. Now, Mom was never fat but at very least she had a bit of hips, butt, gut and bust to spare. And why wouldn't she, she had lived thoroughly. But this woman who greeted me was stick thin, too much make-up and dressed in bland housewife fashion. Mom used to have warm, cosy hugs, but this woman gave me something boney and forgettable before sitting her little butt down opposite me.

“…and so that's when Paul was kind enough to offer to pay for lipo!” Mum was treating herself to her second slice of tart by the time she finished explaining where her totally-not-a-problem thighs and belly had disappeared to. “Wow how fucking generous of him,” I totally didn't say. Instead I said something half asses about how great her half ass looked. “Thanks! The best part of all is that I didn't need to diet or anything. I mean, you know how bad I am with portions and exercise.” The slim, fashionable woman took a bite too big for her but dealt with it anyway.Well, that was it then. I had told her till her time and time again what a dick Paul was and what he was doing, but common sense didn't work on her. So I was left with no options but to stoop to his level; if he was manipulating her into becoming his Barbie, then I might have to put a word or two into her ear myself.

Paul had an extended work trip coming up around the same time that I finished my second semester, so through a series of calls, emails and brief visits I convinced Mom that she missed me enough to want me to come home over the break. I reluctantly accepted. The plan was simple, if Paul was paying truckloads to slim Mom down then I her needed to pile that weight back on. Eventually when then battle became to difficult Paul would run for the hills, and hopefully leave half his money behind. Easy! Well… on paper. I had taken up a part time cooking class right around the time I should have been studying for exams as prep work. This was far more important.

When I made it home, to my surprise Mom had already done some of the prep work herself. She was still the image of mundane rich wife, but her clothes were looking a little snugger around the middle. “I've been indulging a bit without Paul here,” she explain guiltily as she let me in, “but like you keep telling me, I can always just get another lipo.”

The plan was simple, I just had to make sure that Mom had her feet up and something delicious in her hand constantly. This was partnered with a bit of “You must miss Paul so much” and “I think you've earned a bit of pampering” and we were off to a flying start. Mom was a bit of a food tragic anyway, even if she was somewhat oblivious to it.Mom was out swimming in the pool on one particularly sunny day, so I decided to bring her some champagne and chocolates. “Oh, you are such a sweetie!” she said swimming to my end of the pool, “You're spoiling your mother rotten you know.” “Is it spoiling if you deserve it?” I grinned cheekily. Mom slowly raised herself out of the pool, water dripping off her bikini and all down her body. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she'd plumped out to almost per-surgery size again. Like I said, she had never been chubby or anything, but her figure cast a more striking shadow now. “Deserve another inch on my ass you mean?” she shot back. “Oh please, if you really thought these were bad for you you'd have stopped eating them weeks ago!” It was a good start, but we had much more work to go.

As the weeks passed, Mom became more and more dependent on me. As I brought her a snacks platter to have on the sofa I could see her belly was beginning to protrude like a pregnant woman. More than once I had been stuck behind her as she made her way up the stairs, my eyes glued to how big her ass was becoming. It didn't take much for me to convince her to eat a plate of ice cream when she wasn't hungry, or that what her favorite show was missing was a pack of chips.

“We'll make those plastic surgeons earn every penny!” became Mom's motto as I reassured her for the thousandth time that her muffin top was not a major issue. It wasn't long before that catch phrase adopted a belly shake, a thigh slap or (if I was luck) a breast jiggle.The plan was going swimmingly, but I needed a proper progress report. I timed my accidental entrance into the bathroom perfectly, just as Mom was coming out of the shower. We both froze for a second in shock. It was enough time for me to take it all in. Mom was totally naked, and she had become very flabby. All that snacking and laziness had developed itself into a big, gluttonous gut out the front, and a wide ass out back. Her flesh from the neck down had become marbled with a mix of cellulite and stretch marks, and how I wished she'd just take a couple of steps so I could see that flesh wobbling all at once. My god, her breasts had gotten big though. I was shocked, she used to have plain old mom cleavage but now she was… explicit! Fat, round boulders that formed and insane amount of cleavage, and amazing nipples. I was impressed to say the least. After but a moment we both ended the silence with a flurry of embarrassed half sentences and I walked out red faced. This was going almost too well.

The true heft of her breasts had inspired me to convince her to get back into the pool at some point this season. The difference was that some dozen cakes had gone into her by the time she managed to squeeze back into her swimmers. As she raised herself (with some effort) out of the pool, the drips had far more surface area to contend with than last time. Every part of her from her big sisters to her now ridiculous landscape of ass softly gyrated as she helped herself to the roast dinner and wine I had brought to her. The tiny swim suit did little to hide her flabby, fleshy modesty.

I had created a monster, a pure devouring machine. When the fateful day finally came, Paul took one look at his wife and headed straight out the door. My gigantic mother, a sea of flesh protruding out in every direction clad in clothing that could not perform its duty, couldn't understand how Paul could be so cruel. In tears, I followed her mountainous ass up stairs, led her to a creaking bed, and helped her get two mud cakes down her throat as she let her emotions out of her system. Behind the sympathetic nod and the solemn face I was smirking. Victory!Weeks had passed and Paul was now a distant memory. I was finishing a four course snack when a voice boomed across the house. “HURRY UP! I'M *BURP* STARVING!” I finished cooking and began pushing the cart towards Mother. When I made it to Mom's low lit bedroom, I had to let my eyes adjust. Eventually, a gigantic, fleshy mountain of woman made herself visible in the middle of the bed. She didn't wear clothes these days, so her once notable bodily features were not only visible but blown out to extreme proportions. “Oh, thank god! I was worried!” my mother said, letting out a low, extended burp. “Get ready Mom, I'm coming in!” I was required to basically climb over my Mother's fleshy body just to reach her mouth. Once laying directly on top of her, I began filling her mouth as fast as she could swallow. She made light moaning and eating noises, but didn't say a word as she concentrated on eating all the food that was given to her. As she at I made sure that my spare hand firmly grasped her big fat breast for support, and I hoped that her immense belly had long since lost the sensitivity to feel an erection against it. Even if she could, I'm sure she wouldn't have cared much as long as food continued to fill her belly.

With so much of Paul's money and nothing else to do with it, I just kept telling her that day after day that we could wave a magic wand over her obese body and she be lady-sized again at the drop of a hat. And sometimes I meant it to. Sure, we were having the time of our lives feeding her the sort of portions they feed armies with and making her the size of a garage, but I couldn't help but wonder if we should go back to the plastic surgeon like we always joked about, having all this blubber cut out, and then spending the year destroying Mom's body again.

Jason and Kate were not your average couple. At a glance you would wonder how they had ended up together. Jason was a prime example of the highschool slacker, lazy but harmless. Kate on the other hand was pretty, smart and social, and she knew it. He had the kind of scruff appearance that showed just how little he cared, and she had the cute black hair, porcelain skin, slender physique and deep expressive eyes that could make anyone care. But beneath the surface, the strongest desire in Kate's heart was only to manipulate others. It delighted her to orchestrate fights, destroy relationships and to lead foolish men off the cliffs of rationality. And in this respect, Jason was the boyfriend she had always dreamed of. The lengths he would go for mere hints of affection had led him into trouble with school, his family and the police. As their relationship blossomed, so too did the malice of her desires.

No example better demonstrates this than what followed one late Tuesday night. The couple were drinking Jason's father's favorite Scotch in the backyard, sitting under the stars. Jason had finally plucked up the courage to tell Kate what he had told no one. With a deep breath he explained to her his deepest desire, a perversion he had been itching to tell someone about for years. He finish with a heavy, expectant silence. “So,” Kate paved the silence “you're, into fat girls?”. “Um, not quite.” Jason was starting to realize this was a bad idea “I'm attracted to girls that, um, get fat. Like put on weight.”. “So when they have those celebrities in the magazines who pork out, you get a raging hard on?” Kate smirked. “Um… kinda, I guess…” Jason dropped his voice. “Wait, you're not expecting me to plump out into a fat slob are you? Cos I don't want to end up like one of those girls on Jerry Springer just to turn you on.” Kate was enjoying herself. “Um… no, I just thought it was like, important for you to know…” he knew this wasn't going according to plan. Kate turned to him about to make another teasing comment about Krispy Kremes, only to hold her tongue. Jason looked absolutely defeated, head down trying to will this conversation away. Kate hadn't realized quite how important a weird sexual kink meant to him. How could she crush him now, after he had opened up to her like this? No, that would be far too easy. The information he had just given her could be used for a far greater evil. Kate put on an understanding face, and patted him on the back. She reassured him that she understood, and that it was nothing to be ashamed of. Hell, she even let him believe that he could be proud of his perversion. It was important to lull him back into a sense of security, and get some more details about this abnormal attraction, so that she could formulate some way to amuse herself with it.“Hunger Stimulants” read the description on the shoddy, Chinese website. “These pills are designed to promote the body's natural hunger sensation and mask the sensation of feeling full. Recommended for bodybuilders and athletes attempting to gain muscle mass.”. She had read about how some sportsmen use these type of drugs illicitly to up their dietary intake. This almost seemed too easy for Kate. Sure, they weren't magic, but on the right victim they could be the straw that break's the overindulgent camel's back. The question was who? What poor sap could she unwillingly make the desire of Jason's misguided affection? What unholy relationship would give Kate the most sadistic pleasure? She could use them on Jason himself, and lure him into an awkward attraction to himself? No, that would be too basic. How about a close friend? A classmate? No, that may cause him more pleasure than pain. What would truly amuse Kate would be to see Jason cross a line that would disgust people. She wanted to see him do something terrible and humiliating. The answer was so close, but alluded her repeatedly…

Until finally it hit her some weeks down the track. Sitting at the table, having dinner with Jason's family, Kate stared into the kitchen. Jason's own mother. Jason's wholesome, skinny mother. Kate imagined her being cute back in her youth, short light brown hair, friendly features, gracefully trim body. She could be the key, the guilt of a son being aroused by the sight of his own mother would be second to none, and Kate would feed off that guilt for years. Kate beamed to herself, this plot of gluttony, incest and shame made the rest of Kate's mischief seem downright childish. After dinner was finished, Kate excused herself to go to the bathroom. Once out of view, she made a brief trip around the house to set a few things in motion. The rest of the evening passed uneventfully, Kate being picked up later and the family retiring for bed as the evening drew to a close. Jason's mom finished brushing her teeth and popped open her pill box. She made a habit of having her vitamin pills twice a day, and whilst these new ones seemed a bit different to the ones she usually took, she swallowed them without much thought and made her way to bed.

Two week later, Kate was visiting again. Jason's mum answered the door, and Kate took a moment to take note of her handiwork. The mother of two was still in good shape, but was becoming slightly shapelier. Her bust caught the eye where it had been less than notable previously, and her belly was just prominent enough to silhouette against her top. “You look lovely today! Have you been doing anything different lately?” Kate asked with a certain amount of earnest. “Thank you Kate!” she blushed “I can't say I've been doing anything differently with my look. I guess I've been doing more baking if that counts! I've had to find a way to kill the time since my exercise bike broke.” Kate could barely hide her glee. Luckily, a ding from the oven in the other room offered a distraction. “Oh, that must be the cookies!” Jason's mother couldn't hide her own excitement “Would you like to taste test the batch with me Kate?”. “No thanks, I'm pretty full right now. Maybe later.”. “Suit yourself,” Jason's mother was already leaving the room “I reckon I could finish the whole batch…”It was only a couple of weeks later that Jason's father was celebrating his 44rd birthday. The family had gone out to dinner to celebrate, and the kids ended up staying at their friend's places that evening. With the house to themselves, Jason's father waited in bed whilst his wife was preparing in the bathroom for his usual birthday surprise. After some time, she stepped into the bedroom in near see-through underwear she had picked up earlier that week. Wordlessly she paraded her outfit for her husband, the moonlight shining through the window and running itself over her decidedly more ample thighs, hips, belly and then bust. Already the lingerie was edging on being a size too small, but this didn't faze her, as she gracefully teased her husband. She got right to the edge of the bed, and was about to loosen the her bra when he spoke up. “Um… maybe not tonight sweetheart.”. “WHAT?” she shot back indignantly. “I'm just not in the mood right now. Maybe we can do this later in the week.”. His wife was as puzzled as offended, “But you absolutely BEG for sex every night of the year! And the one time you can have it you're 'not in the mood'?”. “Well,” he let a little of his frustration leak through “It also happens to be the one night of the year we go out to dinner and you stuff yourself stupid in public!”. “Excuse me? I didn't stuff myself stupid! And what does that have to do with this?”. “I'll have you know that two entrees, three main courses, desert and then making your family stop for ice cream on the way home counts as stuffing yourself stupid. You eat like an animal!” he was throwing his pajamas on at this point, “And its not just all the eating, its all this weight you're putting on!”. His wife stood up at this point “ALL THIS WEIGHT? How dare you! How could you judge me like that?”. “Hey, I could put up with a couple of pounds, but all this baking and gorging has put a tire around your middle. I mean, look how big your ass is getting!”. She searched for words, but all that came out was “Oh, go fuck yourself!” and with that she stormed out of the room.

She only made it to the downstairs mirror. She hadn't had a chance to see herself nude since Jason's girlfriend had accidentally cracked the full length mirror upstairs. It was true, her physique had become more noticeably rubenesque. Her breasts were plumper and firmer than they had ever been, and her belly was sizable enough to sit out from her waist. The biggest difference though was her ass. Her once no-nonsense little butt had plumped up into major flabby ass, flanked by a sizable set of hips. She was officially a fat mom. Before she had enough time to think this over, her gut groaned in request of a midnight snack. Why the hell not, she thought, if he thinks I'm such a fat ass then I might as well act like one. She clawed her way through the contents of the fridge, nibbling on bits and pieces until she came to a big white box at the bottom. It was from Kate, addressed to “a selfless father and generous husband on his special day”. Jason's mother open the box to reveal a giant chocolate cake that Kate had baked. “Selfless father?” she scoffed “Generous husband? He certainly doesn't deserve this!” And with that, the hungry mother devoured the cake on the spot.Jason followed his mother out of the kitchen with a tray of baked goods. As much as he tried, he struggled to remove his gaze from her generous behind. As she walked, her ass gyrated hypnotically through material of her skirt, her plump cheeks swaying and jiggling in a rhythmic pattern. It made him sick to his stomach to think his own mother had become this chubby, but he couldn't help himself looking at her meaty rear. Why had Kate made him bake cookies with his mother? “These are delicious!” Kate swung past and helped herself to one of the cookies. “They are amazing aren't they?” Jason's mom rubbed her prominent, gluttonous belly in agreement, “Jason baked these ones.”. “Really” Kate said with a glint of mischief, “I would have thought these were yours. They are so soft, and doughy and delicious. Yours are always so soft and heavenly…”. The look on Jason's face begged her to stop. “Actually,” continued the large mother, “I prefer Jason's ones. I never knew he had such a talent for baking. I swear I ate a whole tray of them before we left the kitchen.” With that a crumb fell down her top and into her ripe, plump cleavage. With one hand she nonchalantly began rummaging amongst her sizable bosom for it. “A whole tray?” Kate broke the silent spectating “Maybe Jason should do the baking for a change. Wouldn't you like to bake cookies for your mum to eat?”. Before Jason could respond, his mother emerge with the crumb, adjusted herself and cut him off “Well, it might give Jason something to do to take his mind off his father. My husband has been taking long trips for work recently and we don't get to see him very often.” Jason was about to respond, but as if to punctuate the conversation, his mother said “You know what would go well with these? A bit of icecream.” and with that she and her flabby behind made there way out of the room.

The routine was pretty simple at first, Jason would bake cookies with his mother, she would consume them at a leisurely pace and busy herself with with non-strenuous activities. But slowly she began attending the baking sessions less and less, and Jason would have to transport the baked goods to his mother personally wherever she happened to be lounging around the house. Her gluttony was taking its toll on her size too; as the weeks passed her body ballooned right in front of Jason's eyes. As her flesh became more and more ample, Jason's urges became less and less natural. All he could do was try to control himself, and just keep baking.

One sweltering evening in the early summer, Jason was in the kitchen pulling out a batch of custard tarts out of the oven. He had stripped down to his briefs due to the heat, and looking at him you could tell that he had lost weight since he started baking. His ribs were starting to show as a symptom of the amount of devotion he was putting into serving his mother, a fact which delighted Kate to no end. Jason loaded a tray with an assortment of treats and made his way up to his mother's room. When he reached her bedroom he could not see her. He called for her when I wild thought came into his head. Without thinking, he placed the tray down next to her bed and quietly hid himself in the closet, leaving the door open ajar so they he could just spy through. His heart rate quickened, although he still had no idea what he was doing or why. Before he could change his mind, he could hear heavy, slow footsteps making their way towards the room. Eventually his mother waddled in, and he watched silently. She too had stripped down to her underwear in the heat. Only a few weeks ago she had been plump, but now his mother was truly obese. Her breasts were enormous, just having passed their peak in roundness and shape and now beginning to feel the effect of gravity, forming glorious soft, white cleavage inside her bra. Her flesh was pale from a lack of leaving the house, and her whole body was drenched in sweat from the heat. Her massive underwear consuming ass jiggled intensely with each micro-movement as she waddled across the room. In front of her, her big, soft gut stood as a testament to her intense self indulgence, glistening with sweat. Looking over his mother's bare, sweaty flesh she appeared to Jason like a cartoonish inflation of the thin, fit mother he once had. Against his will, he could feel himself becoming erect. Once at the bed, his mother lay down and greedily began destroying the tray of baked goods. Her plump digits swiftly threw the treats in her mouth one by one, and she barely had the time to chew. Half way through the serving she took a breather, panting. She cautiously called “Jason” and waited for a response, called once more loudly, and when no response came she lay back with a sigh of relief. Knowing her son was not within earshot, she gently crept her fingers beneath her bra and began playing with her nipple. A look of childish delight lit up her face, Jason's wood becoming as hard as a rock. Her gargantuan breast began to gently rock, whilst her free hand reached for some pastries to satisfy her other hunger. Eventually she shifted her ample bosom out of her bra, revealing the true scale of her bust glistening in sweat. Her hand gently slid down her mountainous gut and discretely sank her hand beneath her underwear, where she gently entered. Jason took a sharp shallow breath, but his mother was too startled by the feeling to notice. Very gently she began to finger herself, and much to Jason's shame he began to rub himself from outside his briefs. At first she continued to stuff herself with baked items, but soon the pleasure took over and she used her free hand to rub her enormous belly as her rhythms and panting increased speed. Eventually with a satisfied moan she came to a climax, before slumping down onto the bed. At the same time Jason himself was coming, but it took all the effort he could muster to keep himself from making a noise. He waited in the closet, ashamed and guilty, waiting for his mother to fall asleep before leaving.Toward the height of summer Kate made a surprise visit. Jason answered the door, his clothes stained with flour and other ingredients. How it delighted her to see him driven to being the household slave. The two sat chatting in the living room for only a few minutes when a voice bellowed from upstairs. “Jason, where are you? Mummy needs her chocolate muffins!”. “Mum, Kate's here!” Jason called back, then to Kate “Sorry, I usually bring her a tray of food on the hour.”. A few minutes later the floor gently rumbled as Jason's mother lumbered down the stairs. Kate turned just in time to see her handiwork enter the room; Jason's mother had become enormous. Her massive, soft features were tightly stuffed into a large, floral dress. Her face had the same natural prettiness that she remembered, but was now flanked by a flabby double chin. “You're looking great!” Kate tested the waters. “Thankyou sweetheart! What brings you over today?” Jason's mother wiped the sweat from her brow. “I actually has a present to give you.” Kate reached into her bad, “I saw the design and I thought it would be perfect for you!”. And with that, much to Jason's silent terror, she pulled out and extra-large bikini. “Wow,” the mother's face lit up, “for me? You shouldn't have!”. Kate handed the two piece to her, “Well, go try it on! See how it looks.”. With a glint of courage Jason butt in “Um, maybe not while we have company. She can try it on later.”. “Oh, honey, what are you so scared of? Kate is practically family, she won't mind.”. Jason's anticipation made it hard to focus as his mother made her way to the bathroom to get changed. He did not want to get aroused in full view of his mother and his girlfriend, but deep inside a part of him was excited by the idea. After an eon, she lumbered back into the room asking “How does it look?”. Jason was speechless, the bathing suit left little to the imagination and displayed all the soft folds and rolls all over his mother's massive girth. The top held her breasts up to form an extremely ample cleavage that quaked violently as she walked into the room. Her belly stuck out a great distance in front, whilst her fat creamy thighs rubbed hard against one another with every movement. “It looks amazing on you!” offered Kate “Don't you think so Jason?”. “Um… I don't know…” Jason attempted not to look directly at his mother in her plump glory, “it might be a bit, um, small…”. “Well, since Jason is being so antsy about it then I will go change. Thank you though Kate.” and with that Jason's mother waddled out of the room, displaying her plump white ass once more. Jason relaxed slightly, he was thought he was in the clear. This didn't last long. “Um… can I get a hand in here?” his mother called from the bathroom “I think I'm stuck…”. Jason looked helplessly at Kate, who only reinforced that he needed to go help his mother.

In the bathroom, Jason's mother was struggling to remove her bikini top from her generous bosom. “Oh, honey, can you give mommy a hand to get this off?”. Jason obliged, undoing her top whilst she held her breasts close to her. The bikini top dropped to the floor, and the two were silent for a moment. Finally, Jason's mother spoke up. “Um, honey, I've been meaning to ask… Do you think I've gotten fat recently?”. Jason new she had gorged herself into obesity, but he played it cool “Um, maybe a little. Where do you think you've put on weight?”. Still holding her breasts in one arm, she released the other to cradle her immense stomach “Mainly around my belly I feel pretty flabby.”. Another brave idea entered Jason's head, and before he could dismiss it “It doesn't look too bad to me. I could feel it to see if it feels different”. His mother didn't see the harm, and Jason began sensually rubbing the ample, soft flesh of her tummy. His hands explored the landscape of her figure, her rolls, shape and the bounty of her flesh. She giggled a little, and blushed at the intimacy of his fingers. Finally, assuming she was after an assessment, he offered on “Well, it looks like you have gotten quite pudgy. Your belly is very flabby. Its probably all that baking that's plumped you up mom.” At this point she blushed, she hadn't been expecting such a blunt description “Well, I guess I am getting a little porky…”. Jason cut her off, “Have you put on weight anywhere else?”. “Well, I guess I've gone up a couple of bra sizes. As you can see, my plums have turned into melons…”. “Really?” Jason played dumb “I don't believe it. Can I see?”. She hesitated, but he assured her “Its only me. I'm just trying to help you with your weight.”. Hesitantly, she lowered her arm to reveal her sizable breasts. Jason did his best to seem analytical, as he surveyed her supple nipples and pale, fleshy breasts. “Do they feel any different?” Jason pushed the boundaries very gently. “Um… yeah. Sort of…”. He slowly and hesitantly poked her breast once, then again harder, and once sufficiently confident grasped her bosom firmly. She could not see the bulge in his pants. He “assessed” the shape and texture of her breasts with his hands, until he cautiously approached the nipple. He circled it, slowly, and finally let his figure stroke it gently. His mother jumped in at this point “Honey, that's enough. I think you should stop.” but he only become more vigorous and determined with his motions. She began to resist once again, only for Jason to abandon all reason and sensually kiss his mother like a lover. At first she was confused, then resisted, but quickly succumb to her own secret desires and began to kiss him back. All shame was gone, and both mother and son gave into their hunger. He massaged her bare nipple with one hand, and caressed her plump behind with his other. “You've become so fat, haven't you?” he whispered breathlessly between kisses, her only response being a satisfied moan. Her hands found his throbbing erection, and delicately eased it out of his briefs and up against her soft stomach. The jiggling of her belly gently stroked his manhood. Her plump fingers slipped under his shirt and carefully removed his shirt. As her fingers ran over his body she felt over his skinny frame, and began kissing him on his chest. Slowly she worked her way downwards, threatening to kiss him south of the belt. Just before reaching his erection, his mother looked up and met his gaze with a hungry look. She began to suck him with the force that she would devour deserts with, salivating messily on him. Jason couldn't hold on, and his mother swallowed greedily.The two shamefully and clumsily re-entered the living room as though nothing happened. Kate acted as though nothing happened, and after an awkward exchange or two, Jason's mother excused herself to bed. Kate new she was on the edge of a breakthrough, and they'd made excellent progress today, but the icing wasn't quite on the cake yet. “How often do you bring your mom food?” she asked. “Um…” Jason was struggling to even maintain eye contact at this point, “every hour I guess.”. “She must be starving Jason!” Kate was fighting to keep the smirk off her face “You should bring her a snack before she goes to bed.”. Jason didn't want to. He wanted to go to bed and pretend that this was some sick nightmare that was going to forget itself by tomorrow. But something urged him, deep down, and he knew that the line had already been crossed. With uncertainty, he went to the kitchen and got a tub of ice cream out of the freezer. He made his way up to his mother's room, heart pounding heavily. Once out of sight, Kate fished her camera out of her bag and silently trailed him up the stairs…

Jason peered into the darkness for a moment, then slowly creaked the door open and stepping in. When his eyes adjusted, he could see his mother on the bed dressed in a nightgown and a look of deep shame on her face. “Jason,” she began “I'm so sorry… I've been a terrible mother. I don't know what came over me. Its just that since your Dad's been gone I've just been so lonely. Without any intimacy or affection I would just eat and eat and eat, until eventually eating started to become a turn on for me. The more I ate, the more I would forget about your father, and the bigger I became the more excited I would feel. When you were telling me how fat I've become, I just couldn't help myself. I don't know how you could ever forgive me for the disgusting things I've done…” she was on the edge of tears at this point. “Its okay,” Jason assured her, “it was a weird moment, we weren't ourselves. But we can move on. Here, I thought you might be hungry so I brought you some ice cream”. “Thank you sweetheart,” his mother dabbed away a loose tear “but I can't. My overheating is what caused this problem, so from today I'm going on a diet.”. Jason held a strong pokerface, he wasn't giving up now “That's fantastic news! But since the ice cream is here, maybe you should have one last taste before your big diet.”. “Thanks sweetheart, but I really shouldn't.”. Jason began to slowly advance on her “Have a mouthful, it can be your reward for this big change.”. “Please Jason, I really think this is a bad idea…”. Jason was next to the bed, and he had prepared a big scoop of ice cream. Initially she refused, but eventually as the spoon approached her lips something primal took over, and she wolfed it down. He offered her another, which she refused, and eventually accepted. With each scoop she resisted a little less, and displayed a little more pleasure with each mouthful. Slowly but surely, his manhood rose as he watched his greedy parent stuff herself to ecstasy with ice cream. Her plump frame quake with each movement, her belly so plump and ripe after so many deserts.Once she had finished the tub, she slumped back in a pleasant delirium. “Oh sweetheart,” she half burped “you are the worst thing to happen to my diet.”. Jason lay his hand on her ample thigh, sinking into the pale flesh “My god, you have become so fat over the past few weeks”. “Sweetie, please don't say that…” she was to defeated at this point to offer resistance. Jason continued “I mean look at you, you've belly has become huge.” and with that he sank his free hand into her nightgown and across her gloriously flabby belly. “Oh fuck.” she let out, with equal measures of frustration and sharp pleasure. Jason slid the gown apart to reveal his mother's bloated figure once again, glistening in sweat. He spotted a stray drop of ice cream on gigantic breast, and before she could protest he was suckling clean. Her nipple became hard at the touch of his tongue, and she clasped him to her bosom. Jason released himself and sat back from his mother. Eventually he spoke “I want to see how big your ass has gotten”. “Honey, I don't think that's a good idea.” his mother clung on to a shard of reason. “Oh, that's fine.” Jason offered “I understand if you've become so fat that you can't even turn over.”. The arrow hit target, and his mother in a flush of arousal hauled herself over. She squatted so that her robed behind face Jason in all its massive, soft glory. Gingerly he eased up her robe with his fingers, slowly revealing her fat ass. At the sight of his mother's ass he became fully erect, and in a moment of impulse he plunged himself deep into her. Nothing he had experienced could match the pure pleasure of his mother's flesh rubbing all over him, her moans of delight loud in his ears. He kept thinking of how she had gorged herself, day in and day out, to go from the slim, sensible little woman she was to this giant goddess of sloth and greed. He reached around and clasped her massive breast, massaging its softness and stroking her nipple to the rising moans of ecstasy. His other hand explored the massive shifting landscape of her gut, its softness and the delicacy of her folds pleasurable greeting his fingers. He kissed her down her back whilst his hands worked together to contort her belly. He licked the sweat of his mother's flab, his scrawny frame slapping against her excessive back flab. After an eternity of unholy pleasure, he bent her over and with hands grasping the supple flesh of her huge behind he went full speed. As his mother's moans spiraled higher and higher, they both apprached an ultimate climax. With one hand lost in the flesh of her belly, Jason and his mother came simultaneously, before falling exhausted into each others arms and lips. Both were in such pleasure that neither could possibly have noticed the tiny lens at the edge of the door frame. No, at this point in time, mother and son new no shame or evil or consequences of the grotesque union they had formed. Only the sweetest, most unattainable pleasure.It was a year later. Footage of Jason and his mother had gone viral, and Jason had had to cut ties with what few friends and acquaintances he had left out of shame. He found it hard to leave the house, and spent almost all of his time inside. He still cooked for his mother, as he had so little else to do these days. Every day she make a promise to go on a diet and get their lives back on track, and everyday she would end up gorging herself on pound after pound of food and food-like substances. Jason had decided to start cooking foods other than baked deserts in an attempt to ween her off them, but her appetite welcomed whatever greasy feasts he provided without prejudice. Her hunger had grown so powerful that if Jason were late to bring her a meal she would devour an inanimate object within arms reach of her bed in protest. Her figure had grown to reflect her gargantuan hunger, she was an enormous bed-bound beast, her belly so bloated and huge that it towered over her, her massive breasts each possessing the weight of a small child. Every night Jason would explore his mother's gargantuan landscape and derive his unholy pleasures whilst she powered her way through an excessive desert feast.

Kate was the only person who would brave the household, and she did so regularly. At first she visited only to marvel at the destruction and humiliation she had put upon the household, but she soon realized that in his feeble servant-like role, Jason could be her dream boyfriend. He would feed, clean, pamper and spoil Kate at her command. And as the months passed and she spent more and more time at their house, she began to change. She had been an attractive, trim girl when she first put the wheels of chaos in motion, but as she was pampered with sweet deserts, greasy meals, and bits and pieces of whatever delicious feasts Jason would be preparing for his mother, she began to plump up. In a year's time, she herself had developed a big fat belly, one that resembled a beer gut or a pregnant tummy. Her shirts failed to cover it, and no matter how she tried to hide it, her belly stuck out in front obtrusively to show everyone what a slob she really was. She wanted to stay trim and sexy but the allure of having her servant do everything for her was too strong, and further down the track she began to develop a big butt and some wholesome cleavage to match her ever growing gut. Despite how manipulative she was, she had underestimated Jason. It would be too far late that she would realize that Jason had figured out a way to manipulate her too, to make her into the image of his dear sweet mother…

Paul and his mother Susan lived together in the middle of suburbia. Paul, who was midway through high school, was a quiet scrawny boy who kept to himself a lot, stayed out of trouble, kept few friends and got good marks. He was by all accounts a model son. He hadn't known his father, who had left the two of them when Paul was very young, but Paul took care of his mother better than she could ever ask for. Susan was a woman approaching her forties, but it hadn't begun to show yet as she kept her physique trim and healthy with regular exercise and a busy worklife. She was not unattractive, with sensible short flaxen hair, pale skin, and she always wore bright red lipstick giving her the look of a movie star from the 30s. On her petite figure she possessed a slightly generous bust and behind that could attributed to childbearing and motherhood. Strenuous work hours meant that Susan would get home late and leave early, leaving Paul to do most of the house work in her absence. Susan had never dated or seen anyone else after Paul's father left, and as a result Paul and Susan had formed a tight bond, not just mother and son but best friends as well.

Susan would come home in the evenings, to her tidy well-kept home. Paul would be in the kitchen, cooking their dinner, still in his school clothes. “That smells lovely” she'd say, passing through the kitchen on way to her room. “It'll be ready in 15 minutes,” he would say without looking up “enough time for you to have a shower and get changed”. Susan would divert her route through the kitchen to kiss Paul on the forehead. “You're such a gorgeous boy!” she would often say before heading to her room. She would return for dinner in something more comfortable, sometimes a thick jumper and pants in the colder months, and little more than her floral underwear when the weather was warm. Paul never made much of this, as the two had always been very comfortable with each other. Susan could usually only make it half way through one of Paul's lavish dinners before she was full. She'd thank her “gorgeous boy” before heading to her room to finish of the days work. The dynamic of the household worked well, as Susan loved coming home to her clean house and her gorgeous boy, and Paul loved looking after his mummy.

It all came crashing down one day when Susan was home early. She rushed through the kitchen, eyes visibly red, without a word to her son cooking dinner. Paul was worried. “Is something wrong?” he called as he made his way to her room. Eventually, she whimpered back “they've fired me!”. She came to her door to meet him “After all these years, they've dropped me. Just like that!”. Paul had never seen her this upset “Is there anything I can do? Do you want to talk about it?”. “I just…” she began, trying not to direct her frustration on her son “…need to think about this for a bit.” and with that she wander back into her room. Paul, not sure what to do, went back to work on dinner. It was going to be a lavish roast, but with his mum in distress it would probably end up as lunches for the week. Just as he pulled the huge bird out of the oven to go in the fridge, he was startled by his mother storming in the room. She was wearing her floral underwear, and had half draped herself in a silk nighty. In a rage she began ranting about her bosses, her office, and every way they had screwed her. Shocked, Paul quickly set the roast down in front of her and took a seat. She continued her tirade, and without paying much attention began eating the roast. Paul didn't say a word, just listened to everything she had to say. It wasn't that he was scared of her anger, but her anger coupled with how intensely she devoured the chicken carcass with both hand had him transfixed. It was as though she was taking out her anger on the bird. By the time she had covered each of her former co-workers in some detail, she had unwittingly eaten her way through the whole roast. Susan slumped in her chair, defeated “What am I going to do? I'm going to have to find a new job and start over again!”. Paul got up and hugged his mummy “It'll be okay. No matter what happens I'll look after us.”.Susan's routine crashed after that night. Paul woke up for school the next morning to find his mother on the couch with her laptop, still wearing her floral underwear. “Good Morning!” she said with a surprising amount of warmth. “You seem pretty cheery this morning” Paul pointed out, happy to have his mother back in a good mood. “Well, there's no point in taking this lying down, I've started looking for jobs online.” she said, taking a bite of the Danish in her left hand “Plus, I've needed to take a break for a while now. We can spend more time together.”. When Paul got home from school, Susan was still where she'd been lying that morning. He'd assume she'd not move all day if it weren't for the empty pizza boxes next to her. “I guess it was just easier to get it delivered,” she replied upon questioning. “You shouldn't be eating that,” Paul was concerned “I'll cook you a nice big dinner if you're hungry.” and with that he kissed his mother on the forehead. Later that evening, she dragged herself away from the couch to the dinner table, where her gorgeous son had prepared a feast. A warm genuine smile burst through her cherry lips, and she began to journey through the feast. Paul marvelled at the amount of food his mother could pass through those lips. When she had finished more than her share, she slumped back in her chair with a sense of satisfaction. “That was delicious sweetie.” she said, resting her hands on her tighter than usual belly, “I hope you've got your mother something sweet dessert?”. Dessert? Paul hadn't even thought of that. “I don't have anything prepared, maybe another night?” Paul tried. “You couldn't go up the road and get something?” Susan groaned “Mummy's craving something sweet.”. Paul hated disappointing his mother, and so quarter of an hour later he was watching his mother smitten with a tub of choc-chip.

This became the blueprint for the family's new routine, Paul would cook for Susan and look after the house, whilst Susan would spent her days lingering around the house in her underwear, looking for jobs online and finding various ways to out-eat whatever her son had left her for the day. It was about 3 weeks after this that Paul came home to his mother in the kitchen half way through destroying a pack of chocolate fingers. “Hello sweetie!” she let out between mouthfuls of chocolate fingers. Paul was too stunned to reply. He couldn't take his eyes off his mother. The days at home had begun to leave a mark on her figure. He had seen her in underwear many times before, but now they seemed constricting. Her once trim stomach was like dough urging itself outwards over her panties, her already generous bust threatening to resist its constraints, her once sharp jawline now rounded and hinting at the double chin that may soon develop. Her behind was becoming a prominent, soft, white cushioning for her daily lounging. Something strange was happening to Paul, looking at his mother he couldn't control his thoughts. He wanted to see her belly grow outwards against the restraint of her panties, he wanted to see her bosoms break forth from their bra, and he wanted to watch her big pale behind move as she walked away.

Like being struck by a lightening bolt Paul snapped back. Oh god, how could he think these things about his own mother? He felt sick to his stomach, he had crossed a very big line. Just as the venom was about to sink he, he stopped and began to reason with himself. This wasn't unnatural, he was simply trying to look after his mum. It was simple biology that he would want to keep his mum well fed, and make sure she didn't have to lift a finger around the house. His mother didn't seem to notice the inner turmoil her son was enduring at the sight of her indulgence, as she devoured the last third of chocolate fingers in a generous mouthful, before beaming her warm, familiar smile. And that was the main reason why Paul would cook delicious meals for his mother, just to see her plump red lips reveal that lovely smile. “Would you like one” Susan offered the packaging in Paul's direction, revealing a lonely finger clinging to the bottom. “No thanks mum, you enjoy it.”. Quicker than he could refuse, Susan's greedy fingers darted into the package and withdrew the morsel. She raised the bar right to her mouth and held it there a moment, as her tongue reached out and grasped the chocolate drawing it in. She delicately chewed her lucky victim, and Paul couldn't tell if she was savouring the flavour or if time had slowed down as he watched her finish it. Eventually she swallowed it, and she lit up with an expression that showed she felt a little guilty for snacking, but could easily finish another box.Later that week, Paul decided to treat his mother to a nice dinner. He spent the afternoon in the kitchen whilst his mother relaxed in the other room. After an eternity for her, Paul came out speckled with amounts of chocolate, dough and flour. “Mum, I know the past few weeks have been hard for you, but since you've been working so hard looking for a job I've decided to make you a special dinner”. Susan couldn't mask the delight in her eyes, she'd barely been able to tide her hunger over with her snacks. As she entered the kitchen, she could see the fruits of her son's labour. The table was laid out with a variety of lavish picturesque desserts, ranging from truffles to jellies, cakes to pastries. Susan was beaming with girlish excitement over a buffet fit for a royal family. “A dinner of desserts? You spoil me so much! You're such a gorgeous boy!” and with that she kissed him on the forehead, her lips noticeably moist with anticipation. In a single motion she was in her seat and serving herself a large portion of Tiramisu. “Have you had any luck finding work?” Paul asked, knowing the answer. “Nothing has come up yet.” Susan half heartedly responded, more concerned with defeating the onslaught of calories infront of her. Paul couldn't keep his thoughts together long enough for the rest of the meal to make conversation much more than that. He was transfixed on his mother, still a relatively average sized woman, inhaling the meal without inhibition. She was addicted; as she finished a tart she would already be reaching for a plate of chocolates. She jumped from one plate to the next with a will that didn't seem to wain until she was down to her few final cakes, and even then a certain amount of determination got her through. After her cream-covered fingers placed the last slice into her mouth, she slumped in her chair once more. A smile of playful victory let itself show when her seductive red lips finally parted once more. “That was delicious.” she said somewhat breathlessly, “I wanted to stop myself, but it was all too lovely! Thank you!”. “You're not finished yet.” Paul said frankly. “Oh sweetie, I couldn't eat another bite” Susan moaned. Paul indicated to a single, neglected chocolate roll she had missed, “I'm only going to throw it away otherwise.”. Susan sighed with surrender, “Well you'll have to bring it to me, I'm exhausted”. Paul carried the treat over to his mother, and held it next to her for a moment. Her hands didn't raise to receive it, and it took Paul a moment to notice her open mouth beckoning. Hesitantly, he raised the chocolate to his mother's inviting wet lips. He edged it closer, and closer. Just when it reached the entrance, her plump red lips tightened around the dessert with a certain amount of force, and it began to glide in. She lazily consumed the log, and just as Paul was about to let go her lips jumped to grab the end it like a greedy animal and ended up closing around Paul's fingers. She tenderly bit down on him, if only by accident, and as he pulled away from her lips a thin strand of her sweet saliva clung between them for a moment. Paul would recall this moment in great detail for a long time.

Susan began making requests for food whenever she fancied. At first it was just ideas for dinner, or grabbing something from the fridge, but once she had tested Paul's obedience she began requesting he get her food from up the road, or waking him up for snacks in the middle of the night. About two months in, Paul was coming back from one such request with pack of doughnuts under his arm. He enter the house, and made his way to where Susan had spent the best part of her week; in bed. She thanked her son, and proceeded to make short work of the doughnuts. Paul sat on the end of the bed and watched, which he didn't bother hiding anymore. Once she had finished the box, she began licking her chubbier fingers. She met Paul's gaze, and stop. “What are you looking at honey?”. “Nothing… you're beautiful.” he blurted out. For a moment Susan looked puzzled, but it disappeared in a look of flattery. “You're sweet to say that,” she gazed down at the sheets “but your mummy's getting a bit chubby.”. Paul faked bewilderment “No!”. “It's true. I'm becoming quite a porker.” she said, with a certain childish amusement “at this rate your mother is going to be quite a heifer by the end of the year.”. With that she lifted back the sheets to reveal her body, and it was hard to disagree with her. She was wearing her favourite floral underwear, but it was pulled so tight over her ballooning figure that barely recognisable. Her breasts had flourished into soft white mounts of ample flesh, whose volume had resulted in a ridiculous amount of cleavage, and her hips were generously round hinting at the expansive pale mass that lay behind. But the focal point of his view was the gut she had amassed in her recent culinary obsession. It was a perfect mass of soft plump flesh, quivering on top of her. With some effort, she heaved herself onto her side, a subtle gurgling emitting from her belly in the process. “It reminds me of when I was pregnant with you” she said, cradling the gluttonous flesh “I would stroke my belly, knowing that you were always there from the beginning.”. Paul was tongue tied; he felt wrong for just being her and looking upon her body, but he was too entranced to leave. “I used to be able to feel you kicking,” she mused, stroking her pot-belly “Here, have a feel.”. Paul couldn't believe what he was hearing, and held a blank expression. “Cummon, I'm only your mummy!”. She guided his hand against her doughy tummy. It was nothing like a pregnant stomach, it was a soft inviting sea of fat, like he could almost feel the sheer indulgence his mother had subjected herself to. She slowly led his hand around the surface, stroking the belly lightly and making it jiggle ever so slightly. He could feel himself getting excited, and his blood racing. He pushed down with a bit more pressure, feeling his palm sink into the fat. He look up at his mother's face. She had closed her eyes, as though the experience was therapeutic for her. After what could have been an age of stroking his mother's bountiful flesh, he gently rested his head on her belly making a softer gurgle. In a blissful state, he drifted off to sleeper to dream about what other fleshy areas he could explore.Despite Susan's awareness of her growing figure, the growing continued. Whatever reservations she had about becoming a large fleshy woman were inferior to the joys she had of eating handful upon handful of whatever her son cooked her. And Paul was rewarded with a more and more relaxed sense of privacy between the two. Several months into unemployment, Susan was a large woman. Her jet black hair, bright red lips, big mothering eyes and natural beauty were still intact, but it would be a challenge to recogniser her on body alone. Where she had once been slender and trim, she had blossomed into a chubby woman. Her jawline had finally grown into a soft double chin, her belly lay plump and proud out in front, with each cake threatening to sink south, and her once muscular legs had plumped out to meet her increasingly excessive behind. But it was her bust that concerned Paul this morning. Coming downstairs in his underpants to start preparing breakfast, Paul pause on the first step to remain out of view. Down below, he peered at his voluptuous mother in her favourite long-suffering floral underwear. Pudgy fingers were wrestling with clip on her bra, trying to get the thing off. Paul watched from a distance as she tried and tried to remove her bra. The bra itself barely served it's original function, it was pulled so tight that it could have been mistaken for a string bikini. The cups were almost totally useless, simply covering the nipple and contorting the breast out of shape. Her bosoms were overflowing in all directions, the soft pale flesh jiggling with every movement. He had a burning desire to see them free, each far more than a handful for any man and softened beyond imagination.

With a certain amount of bravery, Paul walked down stairs to his mother. She stopped in her tracks, and whipped her head around to him. “Do you need a hand?” he offered. Susan blushed “Oh… I… my bra is caught… and I need to have a shower.”. “Don't worry,” Paul said unphased, approaching her. He spun her around and started grappling with the bra. “Its sort of embarrassing,” his mother giggled “but I haven't taken this thing off in weeks!”. Paul could tell, the bra had become so tight under her weight that he struggled to pull the bra together enough to release the clip. “Could you squish your boobs in mum?” Paul said as blankly as he could muster. Susan grasped her chest with some force, giving Paul just enough slack to unclip the bra. “Thank you my gorgeous boy!” Susan said, turning towards him. Paul, however, could not concentrate on what she was saying. He had not seen her bare breasts since he was a small child, and even then they were not the mammoth portions they are now. Slowly, his mother released the bra letting her breasts out. At first they were held firmly in a perky rounded shape, but as the bra came off they began to spill downwards. He could not stop staring so obviously at his mother's chest. As the bra slowly came away altogether, he could see them in all their glory. He could only imagine how perfectly perky and round they would have been some months ago, but they had begun to succumb to their own weight. Not that her breasts were any less perfect, they were soft and pale, and retain a certain shape and roundness despite their immense proportions. Each was capped with a firm little nipple, and like a newborn again he want to suckle from his mother more than anything. As thanks for his assistance, she lent in and gave him a moist kiss on the forehead, but he was intently focused on the fact that her glorious breasts were swaying inches away from him.usan made her way to the bathroom, slipping her underwear off on the way. Paul paused for a second, and then scooped up her bra off the floor. He held it to his face, and breathed in deeply. All the sweat and pheromones she'd left in the garment came rushing into his nostrils. It was the pure smell of motherhood, of being held as an infant, of being safe and nurtured. He became so incensed by the smell that his feet began walking before he knew where. He was making his way toward the bathroom. He needed to see more of his mother, if only a peep. Silently, he slid the door open and peered inside. Amidst the steam, he could see the large mass of his mother. She was soaping herself, slowly, getting into every new roll and crevasses she could find. She slowly massaged the fat on her body, making her soapy wet mass slowly gyrate. She was captivating, her flesh so soft and white, silky, like a slab of gelatinous marble. And yet, embedded within every ounce of flesh was pure lust. Paul stayed there, motionless and aroused beyond what he thought possible. She yelp “Paul?!… what are you doing?”. Paul was silent for a moment. He was perving on his mother. He had nothing to say, and the panic rose inside of him. Then, out of nowhere “I just thought, since you were struggling with your bra, maybe you needed me to help you clean yourself?” Paul couldn't tell if this was better than saying nothing. Susan smiled “Oh aren't you sweet! I'm sorry I was a bit frightened, but I guess you've seen it all before!”. Susan paused for a bit, weighing up the options “Well, I guess there is more ground to cover than ever, I could probably use a hand. I remember when we used to shower together when you were only little.”. Paul quivered, slowly dropped his underpants and made his way to the shower. Susan handed him the soap “Okay, so I need a bit of a hand getting under my breasts. I don't want you to feel embarrassed just because I'm your mother. You may not have noticed, but I think they gotten a bit bigger in the past few weeks.”. There was barely enough space for Susan alone, let alone the two of them, but Paul managed to squeeze himself between the wall and his mother's food-heavy belly. He soaped up her bosom and massaged them deeply. He was at the pinnacle of arousal, but miraculously his mother didn't notice. “I'm so lucky to have such a gorgeous son!” she soaped her behind as her son worked on her breasts “Here I am, chubbier than I've ever been, and my darling boy offers to help me wash myself! Most boys would find their mother's naked body gross.”. “I can't help it,” Paul mumbled through a mass of belly and breast “you are beautiful!”. And with that she kissed him on the forehead. Paul stopped cleaning for a moment. “Is something wrong sweetie?” Susan asked. “Its just… why do you always kiss my forehead? That's what you do with small children.”. Susan stroked the side of her son's head, and with that hand drew him forwards. She lend in and gave her son a big, sugary kiss on the lips.It had been most of a year since Susan had lost her job, and she was an entirely different woman. Plump had led to fat, and fat had led to something else indeed. Thanks to near-constant gorging she was almost double her body weight, but her body seemed to know what to do with it. Rather than a shapeless blob, she was shapely despite her girth. Her breasts and her behind were more bountiful and sensual than ever, which brought Paul joy to know end. One evening, after an afternoon of slaving in the kitchen, Paul called his mother to the dinner table. “I need a hand…” she whimpered back. Paul came out to see his mother (dressed only in a very large, but no less strained pair of underwear) unable to hoist herself out of the couch, with an embarrassed smile on her face. “Could you help your mother up?”. Paul happily obliged, precisely positioning is grasp around her waist and to squish himself against her belly and grip her behind at the same time. “Thanks honey!” she said, granting him a peck on the lips. She waddled her way toward the kitchen, her grand rear bouncing so rhythmically and hypnotically that Paul would have been entranced if he weren't so determined that the evening play out perfectly. Another lavish feast await Susan, who was more than used to being spoilt these days, but to make the occasion special Paul had opened a bottle of champagne. “What's the occasion sweetie?” Susan managed through a mouthful. “To a perfect mother and a perfect life!” he said, pouring her a glass. Susan powered through the feast with her usual superhuman appetite, finishing half the bottle of champagne by the time she was licking up crumbs. Even for her current girth she looked bloated, but was content. Maybe it was the drinks she'd had, or just a fondness for her son, but the two sat at the table talking for the rest of the evening. Susan nursed the bottle, whilst Paul looked the right opportunity to bring up his favourite topic. “How you feel about your body?” he inquired. Susan paused, not sure how to reply. “This old thing?” she said grabbing her mammoth breast for effect “When I first put on weight, I was horrified. But I couldn't deny all the lovely food you were giving me. I like being skinny, but I'm in love with food. And so I just kept eating and eating and eating to my hearts desire, and I just grew humongous!” and with that she shook her huge fleshy belly. “But that's when it hit me, why should I be ashamed of my body? Every roll, every curve, every part of me that jiggles and sticks out… that's all a reminder of my lovely son who feeds me amazing food! I'm proud of my huge ass, it shows everyone how much my son loves me!”. Paul was silent for a moment, until offering softly “I love your huge ass, mum.”. With a drunken sway, Susan managed to hoist herself out of her seat and waddle over to her son. Her fat bounced off her hypnotically, her breasts bouncing free of her bra with ease, displaying her soft nipples. Either she didn't notice or didn't care, as she was single minded about reaching her son. She pulled him out of his chair and gave him a huge motherly hug, submerging him in a warm plump ocean flesh. She lent in and began to plant a kiss on her sons lips. In her drunken state, Susan kissed him an ounce too passionately and lingered a moment too long. She pulled away, smiling to cover a certain amount of embarrassment. They paused a moment, before surrendering to a more passionate kiss. Susan and Paul kissed deeply for the first time, tasting each other entirely, massaging the inside of each other's mouths. Paul's hands quickly found her massive white breasts, and he began tenderly rubbing them like he had been dreaming of rubbing his mother's breasts for months now. Susan quietly moaned with delight. Paul broke away from kissing her to gorge himself on her ample breasts, and Susan tightly embraced him into her cleavage. He was smothered but delighted. As his mouth explored the soft enveloping folds of her chest, his hands sank around her to grasp her mammoth ass. Forcefully he caressed her behind, truly taking in how much fat she had managed to stuff herself with in such a short amount of time. Pure fat embraced him from all sides, like the physical feeling of greed in all all its glory enclosed his small skinny frame. Paul suckled his mother for what seemed like an eternity, in the thralls of ecstasy, until his mother leant in and whispered to him “There's something special I'd like to do for you”. Paul stopped, not sure what how to feel. “Find me something sweet,” she continued, softly and soothingly “and then meet me in the bedroom.”.Paul gently pushed open the door to his mother's bedroom, chocolate cake in one hand. The room was dimly lit by small candles, and in the middle of the bed lay his big beautiful mother. Susan looked perfect as she was that moment, her dark black hair, bright red lips and warm inviting features so effortlessly sexy. She had draped herself in a barely-there negligee, one of which he could easily see every cascading ivory roll and voluptuous curve. Her gaze beckoned him closer, and he made his way towards her. Her eyes never left the cake, and she greedily took it off him when he was close enough. She then turned away from him and placed the cake in front of her. She lent in towards the cake, leaning on her knees, so that her large plump ass was poking out towards Paul. With her bare hands she began to take the cake apart and stuff herself with it. She gently moaned with delight, and softly beckoned to Paul, “You can enter any time you like sweetheart, mummy doesn't mind.”. Paul was nervous, but his body knew what to do. As his mother gorged on cake, Paul took a hold of her great white behind. He silenced his nerves, and thrust himself deep into his mother. She squealed with a mouthful of chocolate from a mixture of pleasure and being startled. He thrust repeatedly, causing seismic ripples in her flabby figure. Every moment within her was ecstasy. Susan didn't let this distract her from her dessert, and as the forbidden pleasure surged through her, she devoured the cake more vigorously stuffing handful upon handful into her gluttonous gullet. Paul savoured the thick inviting flab slapping against him rhythmically, knowing that there could be no sweeter feeling on earth. He reached around and tightly clutched what he could of her generous belly, feeling her violently jiggle all over. Susan's pleasure was getting the better of her, and as much as she wanted to stop eating and give in to the feeling, she did not want to disappoint her son. So Susan continued to stuff herself with, knowing that she could only get plumper from it. Both Paul and Susan were reaching a climax they could not have imagined, and in the throws of passion Paul cried “You're body is amazing!”. Susan responded, wailing with pleasure, “You've made me this way! You've made your mother morbidly obese!”. And with that, Paul came deep inside her, feeling the greatest pleasure he'd ever known. The two sank into bed, and kissed each other softly and wordlessly.

As Paul lay in his mother's bosom a few minutes later, he hazily spoke to her, “I've felt this way about you for a long time. I was scared to tell you, because I didn't think you'd understand.”. Susan smiled at him knowingly, “Sweetheart, I've known for a while. We've showered together, you've watched me while I eat with desire in your eyes for months. I might be you're mother but I'm not an idiot.”. Paul was taken aback, “But… how could you….”. Susan cut him off, “Did you really think I would gorge myself day and night into a big fat woman just for the fun of it?” there was an element of teasing in her voice “it wasn't hard to figure out what you liked once the muffin top came along. Your eyes would follow me around the room, so I decided to see how far I could take this.”. Paul couldn't help but feel a little lost. “So…” he gathered his thoughts “does that mean this is it? No more gorging?”. Susan added a touch of flirtatiousness to her voice “I said as far as I could take this right? Do you think I could fit just a little more in here?” and with that jiggled her tremendous stomach with both hands. “Of course you can!” Paul hastily responded. “Good,” said Susan licking her lips “then you won't mind grabbing me a pack of doughnuts, some chips and a few bars of chocolate from up the road…”

I sincerely love some of the stories here. Ever since the original posting of "Mom's New Appetite" however many bbw-chan's ago I've been enamored with this concept! I'm working on a story-light sequence involving a mother/son relationship at http://cosmo-n.tumblr.com/Would LOVE to collaborate with a writer or two who has a nose for somewhat realistic relationships to flesh this idea out better. Hope I'm not intruding too much here guys, keep up the great work.

Okay I’ve been bored so I started another Mother & Son story. It’s long and fragmented right now, hopefully I can pull it together in the next… idk, two weeks? Not just bumping, legitimately trying to motivate myself to finish.

Also is there a post limit on this thread? When do we need to start worrying about it sinking?

>>2445Good on you dude. Thanks for keeping it alive, haven’t checked it in a while.

I've got a weight gain story in here that I'm slowly building towards some incest. There's a thin but curvy mother and a fat daughter, as well as a fat boy watching, orchestrating everything, and two other girls and eventually it will all lead to weight gain and romance, maybe.